


Celestial Gravitation

by Nyerus (dragonmist310)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Space, Badass Katsuki Yuuri, Badass Victor Nikiforov, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fantasy, Fluff, Happy Ending, Intrigue, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Politics, Royalty, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Space Opera, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 42,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmist310/pseuds/Nyerus
Summary: The Rossiyan Empire controls most of the galaxy. Most, but not all--not yet. The solution to the Emperor's ambitions lies in a rumored ancient weapon hidden on a lost world. The small, peaceful planet of Yamato holds the key to unlocking and utilizing said weapon. To secure their interests, the Emperor and his talented son--Prince Victor--venture to the planet to obtain the key: Prince Yuuri of Yamato. Knowing that any resistance could mean endangering his homeworld, Prince Yuuri and his family agree to the Emperor's terms. But he has foreseen this day coming and he will not go along with their plans as quietly as the Empire may expect him to.What he hasn't foreseen, however, is the unlikely bond he develops with Prince Victor--a man he should be destined to hate, but finds he cannot.If only galactic politics and ancient secrets didn't get in the way of love.(A slow-burn, space-adventure AU in which there is advanced technology as well as magic.)----Russian Translation Available





	1. The Codex and the High Priest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for checking this story out! A few things to go over before we begin:  
> • This fic borrows elements/concepts from Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Mass Effect in terms of sci-fi related things, and also borrows from Final Fantasy and other JRPGs for the magic aspect.  
> • There are aliens in this, but they're not a big deal. "Humans" are the majority.  
> • I'll be adding tags as needed including for the eventual smut, of course.  
> • A MASSIVE shout out to my dear friend [Hisaminami](https://hisaminami.tumblr.com) for giving me amazing alien names to use and also for putting up with my endless screaming about this concept and YOI in general. I'm her #1 fan!!!  
> • Also thanks to everyone in my discord server who encouraged me, and especially my beloved Lini who helped edit this chapter!  
> • Enjoy! ♡

_Beep beep._  

The soft, clear notification cut through Victor’s musings. He’d been pacing back and forth for who knows how long now, trying in vain to organize his maelstrom of thoughts as he took comfort in quietness of his private quarters. Until now, only the sound of his boots against the metal flooring and the muffled thrum of the starship’s ion engine had been his company—and those, too, he’d long since filtered out.

_Beep beep_.

Victor sighed, wondering if he could ignore it in favor of his own ruminations. Stopping, he looked over to his desk where the datapad lay, a blue light blinking at the top to alert him of an incoming transmission, along with—

_Beep beep._

“Alright, alright,” he told it irritably, scooping up the thing as it automatically turned on at his touch. Brows furrowing, he realized he’d received a message from his father: concise instructions to watch the attached vid and for their fleets to rendezvous at the given coordinates posthaste. It was rare to get urgent instructions like this, but Victor wasn’t surprised. For years now the Emperor had focused his efforts—along with the entire might of the Rossiyan Imperial Navy—towards a singular goal, and as time passed he seemed to become ever more desperate to reach it. Sudden instructions like this were becoming all too common. His own fleet while funded by the Imperial Navy, was technically a separate entity altogether; a special unit known as FROST, which was beholden to none. But he supposed a direct order from the Emperor himself was not something even he could ignore. In any case, he needed to keep an eye on his father’s plans and if playing nice with him was the only way, then so be it.

Victor opened up the attached vid as he sat leaning against his desk. From the moment it started he could tell it had been recorded in secret—shaky, tilted oddly, and a faint film grain indicating a low-quality capture device—but it was easy enough to make out what was happening. A man in white robes stood in the center of a room. It was difficult to make out any distinct details of the room because of the quality of the vid, though there were beautiful carvings along the walls that, when combined with the man’s white robes, hinted at the possibility of it being a temple or shrine of some sort. In front of the man was a decorated pedestal atop of which was a familiar-looking object. To anyone else, it looked simply like a jagged, greyish stone tablet with odd inscriptions on both sides, but Victor recognized it instantly as a fragment of the codex his father was so desperately trying to reassemble as part of his mission. They already had one piece, and now it seemed they were going to have two. Victor’s heart sank at the realization but the vid was far from over. He continued watching and for a few moments, nothing happened. Victor didn’t expect anything to. The man simply stood there, his hands on either side of the fragment without touching it, fingers spread. Due to the angle of the vid, it wasn’t possible to see the man’s face. But that didn’t matter—that wasn’t the focus here. Seconds later, there was a flash of light which obscured the view for a moment before subsiding, revealing that the fragment was now glowing faintly with a blue-white radiance.

Victor’s jaw dropped open at the sight.

The piece of the codex they had in their possession was believed to be aetherially inert—like all inanimate objects. They thought it was a key or a map of some sort that was split into several pieces for whatever reason and scattered across the galaxy. But a glow like that was clearly aetherial. Aether—said to be the life force of all living things—permeated _everywhere_ throughout the galaxy, even in the vacuum of space. Sometimes it even physically manifested in the form of crystals or the like. Interacting and shaping aether to one’s own whims was a talent that anyone with enough practice and dedication could manage. Colloquially, that was known as magic or spellweaving or any number of similar terms, but it was more complicated than that. Aether itself was poorly understood even by the brightest and most devoted scholars. Yet any layman could identify that the glow in the vid was due to some form of aetherial manipulation. And it wasn’t just the man interacting with it, causing it to levitate from the pedestal slightly, but it somehow seemed to be interacting with _him_ in return. Tendrils of aether—visible now in the same blue-white color—drew forth from the codex fragment and curled around the man’s hands and forearms.

That shouldn’t have been possible. Inert objects didn’t _do_ that. Only living creatures were able to interact with aether. And yet… it was clearly happening in that vid. Victor wondered for a moment if it was fabricated—a fake created to cause an uproar or propel whoever had taken the vid into instant fame on the extranet. But something told him that it was very real and if it had existed on the extranet, once it was made known to imperial forces, all traces would be wiped clean as though it never existed at all. Now this vid was in the hands of the Emperor, and soon that fragment.

And not just the fragment, either.

 ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

After overcoming his own initial shock, Victor had ordered for most of his fleet to rendezvous with the Emperor’s, as instructed. Since there was nothing stopping him from doing so, Victor shared the vid with his officers—all of whom watched it with the same look of shock on their faces. And just like him, none of them knew what to say. But they didn’t have to say anything. They had their orders.

One jump to hyperspace and a handful of minutes later, Victor’s flagship the _Corona_ —one of its kind, and his pride and joy—was docked with the massive imperial dreadnought, the _Helius_ . It was hundreds of times the size of Victor’s cruiser or the other frigates of his fleet (one of which was already docked prior to the _Corona_ ’s arrival as part of a liaison, and two others nearby joining up with the imperial fleet). The weaponry on the dreadnought was enough destroy an enemy battalion in mere minutes, or destroy whole cities in the blink of an eye if ever given a reason.

“Father,” Victor greeted the Emperor as only he could, once he made way to the bridge of the dreadnought. It took several minutes to walk there from the docking bay, even knowing the fastest route. For the time being it was only himself and his first officer, Major Christophe Giacometti, aboard the _Helius_ . The rest of his crew remained on the _Corona_.

“Son.” The Emperor had been standing in the middle of the bridge looking over a datapad when they entered. Though he was now past his prime, he was a well-built man with broad shoulders and a square jaw. He towered over many, looking every bit like the powerful ruler he was. He was dressed in the same attire as the other officers around him, despite his status. The uniform consisted of a high-collared black jacket with gold buttons and accents, along with black pants and boots. Officers wore caps, too, but Victor rarely ever donned his simply because he hated the thing and could get away without wearing it. Ranks were indicated via silver or gold badges on the shoulders or lapels, sometimes accompanied by other insignias as necessary (such as FROST’s trademark snowflake). It was a simple but striking design overall, and no one could mistake an imperial soldier for anything else. And moreover, while shore side on diplomatic duty, the Emperor almost always wore the signature red cloak that signified his position as ruler of the empire and commander-and-chief of the imperial navy. For now, however, he was without the ostentatious thing and Victor was glad.

“What all do we know?” Victor asked, cutting right to the chase. He kept his voice mild, but his father still regarded him with cold blue eyes for a moment him before he spoke. Victor fought back the same surge of sadness he felt every time he met his father’s eyes nowadays, wondering just when all the warmth had left them. The other soldiers on the bridge were engaged in various duties and didn't interrupt their tense moment. Or perhaps they didn't dare interrupt a conversation between the Emperor and the Crown Prince.

“Though it was anonymously updated—probably via public extranet terminal—we’ve sourced the vid to a planet called Yamato in the Yamatai cluster. It’s under imperial jurisdiction so we’ve sent word of our arrival. We know the identity of the man in the vid already, and I’ve arranged to meet with their king,” the Emperor said. He placed the datapad he was still holding on the nearby table, which was under a star map that showed their current trajectory. Their ETA was about an hour, and that was only because of courtesy. They could be in the system seconds from now, but by hailing ahead and not just jumping via hyperspace, they were affording the planet time to make any preparations they deemed necessary for the arrival of their Emperor.

In all honesty, Victor was surprised that his father would be so gracious given the circumstances. He knew better than anyone how desperate the man was to get his hands on the missing fragments of the mysterious codex. He knew what hid behind the Emperor’s calm façade.

“If you know his identity, why not reach out to him directly?” Victor asked. They were already being civil by giving advanced notice, but the Emperor was under no obligation to first meet with a local sovereign before doing whatever it was he already had planned.

“Because he’s the king’s son,” the Emperor said simply.

“That complicates things,” Chris sighed from his place beside Victor.

“I’m sure they’ll acquiesce once the situation is made known to them,” the Emperor said, not a hint of doubt or worry in his voice. Victor held himself very still. The situation in this case was that his father intended to round up all the lost pieces of the codex and see where it led—a fool’s version of a treasure hunt. No one knew what that treasure was or even how to read the codex leading to it. It could all very well be nothing more than a wild goose chase.

“Of course, father,” was the only thing Victor said.

“We’ll go down with a small retinue—no need to cause a ruckus. We’ll secure the fragment and then give the prince time to gather his things so that he may accompany us,” the Emperor continued explaining his plan, and once again Victor had to try not to visibly tense up at his words. They were actually going to force the prince to come with them? That’s what he’d meant by _acquiesce_?

“Is it necessary to have him… accompany us?” Victor inquired, careful to keep his tone neutral as always.

“Yes. You saw the vid, did you not?” the Emperor said. “He was able to interact with the fragment—actually _interact_ with it. I’ve had scientists and scholars pouring over our own fragment and they’ve barely gotten it to do anything. Whatever magic the young prince knows or is able to do, it’s of vital importance that he share it with us. And if it’s something only he is able to do—which may very well be the case—then  of course we’ll need his _assistance._ ”

Victor took in the Emperor's words, feeling Chris shift next to him a little. His next realization was something he’d thought of back when he’d first seen the vid, but quickly discarded. It couldn’t be, could it? “You think this prince is able to… that his aetherial attunement may be…?”

“Yes. The fragment reacts to those with high attunement. His must be very high indeed,” the Emperor confirmed. Everyone had a different level of aetherial attunement which determined how well or how easily one could interact with aether. It determined how powerful spells would be and how much control you had over them. Attunement was as much natural as it was gained through years of practice. Victor’s own attunement was fairly high—second only to his father’s—but neither of them had been able to do anything at all with the fragment. Whoever this prince was, his attunement must be _perfect_ to get the thing to react the way it did.

So that was that, then. The Emperor was not only about to add another one of the codex fragments to his collection, but also the means to actually access the codex itself.

It was the very thing Victor had been dreading ever since the start of his father’s seemingly crazy quest. Up until now they had all thought it was better to go along with it—allow the Emperor his obsession because anyways it may amount to nothing in the end. But now? If that prince could really interact with the codex, any and all plans Victor and his allies had would have to be quickly amended. The Emperor getting his hands on an ancient superweapon with devastating power was now a very real possibility.

However, Victor was not in a position to do anything at the moment. His only option was to go along with his father, as always, and simply bide his time.

“What are you going to do?” Chris asked once the two of them had made their way down to the shuttle bay. Due to their size, dreadnoughts rarely if ever landed on planets. Most planets simply didn’t have landing zones necessary to accommodate a ship that large. Instead, all shore parties took shuttles (or sometimes smaller ships) to the surface. Victor always thought that the word _shuttle_ seemed like a little bit of a misnomer though, especially in this case. The shuttle they were on was as well-armored as any frigate and had the firepower to boot. It wasn’t just a transport vehicle, even if that was its primary purpose.

“I don’t know,” Victor admitted solemnly with a sigh, sitting down across from Chris. He hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his laced fingers. He glanced around once, making sure they were alone and taking in their surroundings. The shuttle was a standard model, fairly utilitarian in design with nothing fancy. The interior mostly consisted of black seats arranged in several rows facing each other. Towards the back there was a small storage area serving as an armory. Loading doors were on either side allowing for entry or exit from whatever side was convenient, or both. A panel above each door indicated a hidden mounted gun that would drop down if need be, allowing soldiers to launch an assault from within, despite it being risky.

“The Empress will need to hear about this immediately.” Chris sat back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest as he got comfortable. Since it was only the two of them for the moment, they afforded themselves the ability to speak freely. But soon the Emperor and a small number of soldiers would be joining them and they would again have to appear like loyal subjects of the empire. Victor, especially.

“But I’ll have to wait until we’re back on the _Corona_. I won’t risk sending anything while we’re here or down on that planet.”

“You really think they’re monitoring our transmissions?” Chris asked, one golden-blonde eyebrow quirked in surprise.

“I can’t be sure. I haven’t given my father any reason to doubt my loyalty, but you know how paranoid he can be.”

“Well damn am I glad you take after your mother more,” Chris said. He chuckled a little while trying to keep the mood from becoming too sour, but they both knew the seriousness of their current situation. “Imagine if you were actually anything like him. We wouldn’t have nearly as much fun.”

“Your definition of fun is _unique_ ,” Victor said. He couldn’t help but crack a smile recalling some of their antics. Chris was a friend long before Victor was given command of FROST and brought him aboard. As far back as their academy days, the two of them had gotten themselves in loads of trouble; a true menace to their instructors with only Victor’s status getting them out of every sticky situation. Chris was the natural choice for executive officer, however. He was talented in both conventional combat and magic, was a quick-thinker, and never shied away from danger. For every crazy idea of Victor’s he’d put up with, Chris would suggest even more. None of them had failed (even if sometimes the goal was reached by the most unusual of means). Moreover, Victor knew he could trust the man with his life. He trusted his whole crew, of course—all of them hand-picked for their skill and loyalty—but especially his oldest and dearest friend. That’s why he’d asked Chris to come with him this time around. Normally, he’d have one of his other senior officers accompany him, leaving the _Corona_ in Chris’ care as was customary, but this time was different. Dealings with the Emperor were always _different_.

“Don’t lie. Your definition of fun isn’t so far off, Mr. Crown Prince. I remember the incident with the frogs,” Chris said, shrugging a shoulder. A few imperial soldiers were beginning to trickle in so Chris had shifted the conversation to a safe topic. But that topic still made Victor bristle even after all these years. He was just about to chastise Chris for bringing up the horrible event from their academy days when the Emperor suddenly boarded the shuttle, his red cloak hanging from his shoulders. All soldiers—Victor and Chris included—stood, only sitting down once again when the Emperor did, next to Victor. The man was silent, and so too were everyone else in his presence.

The pilot pressed a few buttons in the front of the shuttle and Victor heard the low hum of the engine turning on, as well as the soft crackle of the aetherial shields coming to life around the small vessel. The shields were powered by a network of crystals housed near the engine. Aether crystals were good for things like providing shields and other static uses. However, they couldn’t be used to power the engines of starships or even shuttles because they would quickly deplete and replacing them was a hassle. That wasn’t necessary anyway, as standard ion engines got the job done more reliably than a somewhat unstable source like aether.

“We’ll be planet-side shortly,” the pilot informed them. They had already entered the system a few minutes ago and the _Helius_ was now in low orbit directly over the capital city. No doubt it was an intimidating sight for anyone looking up, possibly blocking out a portion of the sky.

From what Victor had quickly gathered about the planet (after his meeting with his father), it seemed that Yamato was the third world from its star and had a single natural satellite. It was a garden world whose surface was comprised of nearly 90% water. The 10% of land was consolidated into a single massive continent known as Nihon near the equator, meaning that it was mostly temperate year-round with seasonal snow near its north-most and south-most regions. Overall, the planet’s average temperature was balmy, especially in comparison to Victor’s own homeworld which was often cold—despite how heavily industrialized it was. In fact, Yamato was far _less_ industrialized than Rossiya, though it was the seat of power for the entire Yamatai cluster—which held four more inhabited worlds and several resource-rich ones. He’d seen a few images that made the planet seem warm and hospitable, truly earning of its classification as a garden world.

Victor quickly realized that pictures couldn’t quite do Yamato justice, however. Once they entered into the planet’s atmosphere, they had a clear view out of the window in the front of the shuttle. Cerulean seas framed a verdant land mass whose two poles were both white with snow and ice. Curiously, instead of the capital city of Hasetsu being located near the center of the landmass, it was actually based on the western coastline. Regardless of its placement, that was their destination.

The closer they drew, the easier it was to make out the architecture of Hasetsu. Carved out of limestone and glistening white as a result, it was a beautiful contrast to the adjacent ocean. There were no towering skyscrapers in sight—no buildings made of metal at all, really. While all of them seemed to be built from the same type of limestone, they were in varying sizes and shapes; some geometric with hard angles, and others built to appear more organic with curved edges. It gave the city a sense of unity without compromising originality in terms of architecture. Furthermore, vibrant banners in nearly every color hung from many buildings or were curled elegantly across rooftops, throwing splashes of bright colors to accent the white stone.

Somehow, it made the city feel inviting and alive. And with the sun hanging low in the sky, the city was basked with a soft orange glow, making it seem like something out of a dream.

It was difficult to see people down in the streets because they were still relatively high up once they entered Hasetsu airspace proper, but Victor knew that if the cityfolk weren’t looking at the massive dreadnought hanging in their orbit, then they were certainly eyeing the shuttle with suspicion. The empire’s insignia—a gold crown against a red diamond-shaped background—was emblazoned on both, eliminating any guesswork as to who exactly was disturbing the peace. When he was younger, Victor would have thought that the appearance of an imperial dreadnought would be a comforting sight to any citizen of the empire—that it would make them feel safe and protected.

How foolishly naïve he had been.

 

* * *

 

It was like a feeling of déjà vu.

No, no, it was much stronger than that.

Yuuri stood in the center courtyard of the temple, gazing upwards with a sinking feeling he tried hard to repress. A myriad of orange and blue hues swirled together, growing steadily darker with each passing minute signifying impending dusk. Only a handful of clouds had dotted the otherwise clear sky all throughout the day, but now an ugly, jagged, black scar tore through the sunset canvas. It had started as a small speck until it grew closer, now marring the heavens with its very presence. Yuuri had recognized the shape immediately as an imperial dreadnought, as did those around him. The insignia was superfluous. Only the empire would have such a starship.

The moment he saw it hanging in the sky, Yuuri had felt that sense of déjà vu—which was really the only way he could describe it to anyone else. But it was a persistent, tangible thing accompanied by a faint tingling in the tips of his fingers and the back of his neck. It made his hair stand on end and he felt aether curling around him protectively, like a warning.

This was the day he’d been dreading now for months—three, to be exact.

It started like it always did: with a dream. Or a nightmare, more like, but the point was the same. Visions of this day came to him in his sleep, at first nudging at the edge of his awareness before invading deeper until they became impossible to ignore. And as always they started out murky, disconnected, enigmatic; unorganized flashes of events that would come to pass sooner or later. The stomp of boots against the stone walkways of the temple. The fluttering of a long red cloak. A flash of silver hair.

Elements of the dreams varied each time, but a few things were consistent. Namely, the tablet currently in the temple’s possession—a fragment of a larger codex of some sort, Yuuri knew it to be—was _always_ the center of the dream. That and… Yuuri himself. The dreams were from his perspective, so he never actually _saw_ himself, but he was familiar enough with these sorts of visions to understand that he was the central player. The dreams always ended with him boarding a shuttle with the imperial insignia emblazoned on the side. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it meant, and as time went by the dreams became clearer; the hazy quality being replaced by highly detailed images. Disjointed dreams became a single, unified prophecy and the timeline of events was straightened out. It indicated that the event he was being warned about was drawing nearer. Last night, his dream had felt so real that he’d woken up surprised to find himself still in his own bed.

It wasn’t like seeing every single minute of the day play out, but he was given the basics—in vivid detail. The Emperor himself was going to storm in and confiscate the fragment and essentially force Yuuri to go along—a pawn in what is surely a larger scheme. Yuuri knew this much and knew there was no fighting it.

But it didn’t mean he had to go quietly.

The other temple priests—five, besides himself—cautiously peeked out into the courtyard, looking upwards just as Yuuri still was. It was difficult, in all honesty, to tear his gaze away from the dreadnought shrouding his homeworld in a sense of trepidation. But there were things to be done, preparations to be made.

“All of you go home,” he said, willing his voice to be steady and calm. Attaining a high level of aetherial attunement often meant hundreds of hours of meditation, and he used some of those techniques he’d learned now—to keep himself stalwart in the face of imminent calamity. Breathing evenly, back straight, mind as clear as he could manage. He couldn’t falter now, not when there were people depending on his strength of will.

“Your Royal Highness…,” one of the priests began, approaching Yuuri where he stood. Yuuri put up a hand to show that he was _not_ going to entertain any arguments.

“You must all leave immediately. Go home to your families. Lock your doors. Don’t come outside until the imperials leave,” Yuuri said firmly. “That’s an order, as your prince. Understood?”

He knew he didn’t have to go that far. He knew they would listen regardless—at least partly because they must have some sense of self-preservation. The priest bowed respectfully and the others gathered around did the same, before all of them hurried out of the courtyard towards the main entrance. Yuuri stayed where he was for a moment before turning around and moving further into the depth of the temple, towards the central chamber. It was called that, but actually it was the furthest-most room from the entrance. It was a round area with various decorative engravings on the walls and three tiers of platforms that encircled the room, possibly meant for a large audience. Though in all in time here—from a young underling to high priest—Yuuri had never seen the room utilized in any such fashion. Sure, there were ceremonial rituals performed here, but the audience was only ever a handful of people who would just gather in the center, around the pedestal in the middle; the temple priests and maybe a few interested citizens. Though perhaps in the past, things had been different.

The pedestal itself was cut from the same limestone as most of the structures in Yamato were, including the temple, and was currently enclosed by a near-invisible aetherial shield that was powered by crystals at its base. Atop it rest the tablet: a simple stone thing covered in strange carvings on the front and back, yet jagged on either side—evidence that it was a piece of something larger. To a layman, it was just an odd relic probably unearthed centuries or even millennia prior. It had been worshiped long ago, Yuuri knew, and even now the temple priests regarded it with the utmost respect. No one knew exactly what it was or where it came from, but a handful of talented people were able to interact with it every now and then. Yuuri knew he was one such person, but interacting with the thing didn’t mean it suddenly gave up all its secrets. It wasn’t something you could talk to. It just _was_ . But he knew that it was a truly _ancient_ type of old—a scale of time that was difficult to truly conceptualize. The thing wasn’t alive, per se, but it wasn’t quite like an inanimate object either. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to interact with in the first place. Still though, even if its purpose or origins remained a mystery, Yuuri felt a sense of attachment towards it. Like it was an old friend or something.

Generations of his people had kept careful watch over it, with every high priest before him tasked with keeping it safe. Yuuri lamented that he would be the one to fail in this endeavor. To fail the sacred duty he’d been tasked to uphold when he assumed the mantle of high priest. It was something that weighed heavily on him ever since he’d first started having the dreams of this day. But he couldn’t very well go against the Emperor. He could be imprisoned or killed for treason. Or worse, there would be repercussions against his family and his people. That was not something he was going to going to allow, but he also wasn’t going to bow down to the Emperor’s whims just like that.

“There’s a shuttle headed to the palace.” Yuuri sensed the presence of another a few moments before they had spoken, but it didn’t mean he was any less surprised. He turned to see young Kenjirou standing there in white and blue robes not unlike Yuuri’s own. His unruly hair—straw-yellow with a large streak of bright red in the front—was even more of a mess than usual. His voice had been urgent. Panicked, even.

“I told everyone to go home. That includes you, Minami,” Yuuri sighed, unable as always to truly scold him. Minami preferred his surname to be used, perhaps to create a distinction between his priestly duties and his outside life. Whatever the reason, Yuuri had honored the boy’s wishes.

“Your Grace, please,” Minami said, stepping closer as he wrung his hands nervously. “I won’t leave you here alone.”

Yuuri knew it could be potentially dangerous for Minami to be here and the last thing he wanted was to put the teenager in harm’s way. But Minami was nearly an adult despite looking younger. Yuuri noted that it was an unfortunate physical trait they both shared.

“Minami…,” he tried, thinking of what he could possibly say to get the boy to leave. But everything he came up with would probably only want to make him stay even more. Yuuri knew Minami held him in high regard—maybe more so than anyone else that Yuuri knew—so trying to get him to leave might be an exercise in futility.

“No!” Minami burst, his demeanor suddenly changing. There was a fierceness in his eyes now that Yuuri knew he couldn’t win against. “I won’t run away while you stay here! Imperial troops are at our doorstep and we all know why!”

“Minami,” Yuuri tried again, taking a few steps towards the boy. But Minami simply shook his head and kept going. Yuuri decided that maybe it was best to let him speak his mind.

“I don’t care if you ordered everyone out—I’ll disobey and pay and consequences later! You’re going to put yourself in between them and the tablet aren’t you? Fine, I guess that’s your duty, isn’t it? Well, my duty is to help you. And more than that, my duty is to make sure nothing happens to you. So they’ll have to go through me, first! I won’t leave!”

That was enough. Yuuri reached out, firmly grasping Minami’s shoulder. The boy was shaking slightly with either fear or rage, Yuuri couldn’t tell. The aether around him was contentious, that much was for sure. “Listen to me,” Yuuri started, keeping his voice soft. “I understand, alright? Take a deep breath and calm yourself.”

Minami obeyed this much, at least. Closing his eyes, he took a few long breaths before looking back up at Yuuri with a pout. The high priest felt a sudden surge of affection and protectiveness over his young pupil.

“You can stay under one condition: you will absolutely not put yourself in harm’s way. Am I understood?” Minami nodded tersely. “Good. I don’t think anyone will be hurt, but I _will_ have to leave. You know that, right?”

Again, Minami nodded. Yuuri had told not only his family but all the priests about this day and what was going to happen. Nothing good could come out of hiding it, after all, and he would rather his allies knew what was going to transpire before it did. Everyone had been shocked, angry, et cetera. But Minami had been the most upset of all. Yuuri first thought that the boy might try to fight the Emperor with his bare hands given the chance, to keep them from taking Yuuri away. He’d spent countless hours trying to ensure Minami—and everyone else—that everything would work out in the end and he would return home safely.

No one had been convinced.

“So what’s your plan?” Minami asked, tucking his hands into the large sleeves of his robes.

“Well, I figure that if the Emperor himself is going to march in here, we should at least make it worth his while.” Yuuri stepped past him back into the antechamber and took a sharp left. A small hallway lined by pots of colorful flowers led to a storage room of sorts. The door was sealed by magic, but it was a low-level spell that was really only there for formalities’ sake. Yuuri disarmed the door before he even got to it—reaching out with his aether and essentially drawing aside the protective spell. It caused a slight shimmering around the doorway which signified that the spell was being neutralized.

“It’s always so cool to watch you do that,” Minami murmured from behind him. Because of his level of attunement, Yuuri interacted differently with the aether around him (and the natural aether inside of him) than younglings like Minami. There were fewer gestures involved, less thought, and more instincts. Yuuri recalled the teachings of his mentor on the matter: _at such a level of attunement, the aether around you simply becomes an extension of yourself rather than you being surrounded by it. You are part of it, just as it is a part of you._ And as such, when it came to simple things like disarming a protective spell, it only required thought on Yuuri’s part.

“Keep up with your meditations and listen to your teachers. Soon you’ll be able to do the same,” Yuuri told Minami when they reached the door. Yuuri pushed in the heavy wooden structure, closing it once Minami stepped inside as well. The room wasn’t only a storage area, but a place for preparation as well. Various ceremonial items hung from the walls or were carefully arranged in some sort of order. Like most of the temple, it was dimly lit due to not having any artificial light sources, but it was not too dark yet that they needed help.

“You make it sound easy. And _you’re_ the best teacher I’ve got.” Yuuri could hear the pout in Minami’s voice without needing to turn around. But he doubted that he was the boy’s best teacher in reality—always feeling like he was too awkward to really teach anyone anything—though he was flattered at Minami’s clear bias.

“Alright, it isn’t easy. But it’s not impossible, either.” Yuuri wasn’t born with any more natural talent than his peers. He just knew what he wanted (perfection) and decided that he was going to dedicate his life to it. Years of blood, sweat, and tears—all very literally—went into this and he would be lying if he said it had been anywhere near easy. Still though, he didn’t regret it.

“Who’s going to become the next high priest if you… leave?” Minami asked as Yuuri went over to the far side of the room, to the closet. He pushed aside the screen doors, revealing numerous colorful robes, all neatly hanging from one end of the closet to the other. The robes belonged to different people—and everyone had multiple ones for various occasions—but were all housed here for easy safekeeping. The one in the very center was by far the most extravagant. It was a pure white with red and gold threading, along with rich embroidery of his homeworld’s famed cherry blossoms in light pink. The other robes around it were austere things that were of the highest quality, but in comparison were all lackluster. And of course, the stunning robe in question belonged to Yuuri, as his right as the temple’s high priest.

“I don’t know. The other senior priests will hold a conclave to decide that,” Yuuri told Minami as he carefully pulled out the robe. He ran his fingers over the beautiful embroidery, suddenly feeling very nostalgic. He’d worn this only once before—on the day he’d been anointed as the high priest, three years ago, shortly after his twentieth birthday. He’d been the youngest high priest in the temple’s history, and that had only happened because he’d attained perfect aetherial attunement, demonstrable by his ability to interact with the tablet. It seemed fitting that the last time he wore it would be on his final day here. The symmetry was meaningful in a way the Emperor wouldn’t understand; a secret he could hold onto, even if he couldn’t hold onto anything else in his life. He would take his small victories where he could.

Minami seemed to understand Yuuri’s intentions thereafter and helped him change out his normal robes and into his ceremonial ones. It was a somber affair, done silently in the dim lighting of the room. Once Yuuri was properly dressed—not a single thread out of place and headdress positioned just right—Minami changed into robes that loosely matched. After replacing the ward on the door, they headed back to the central chamber, knowing they wouldn’t have much time now. Not that they needed it, Yuuri thought.

“Aetherlights,” Yuuri started, materializing a small ball of soft yellow-white light on his palm. It twinkled in the growing darkness, like a far-off star brought near. It was a simple thing to conjure, though a little trickier to have them remain for a long period of time. “We’ll place them in a circular arrangement around the room. I’ll sit in front of the pedestal and… await our _esteemed_ guests.” Yuuri wanted to give off the impression that _he_ was the one doing the waiting, that he knew all along (because he did). It was a petulant sort of thing, of course, but he was not above forcing dramatic imagery to showcase his defiance.

“Let me wait in the doorway, then,” Minami suggested, conjuring two of his own, one on each hand. He gently tossed them about while Yuuri did the same. “I want them to know you’re not alone, and also it’ll be pretty dramatic when I step aside to reveal you sitting here, don’t you think?”

Yuuri grinned at him, realizing that maybe he’d rubbed off more than a few teachings onto his favorite pupil. “Sounds perfect.” With a flick of his wrist, the aetherlights strewn about re-arranged themselves into neat intervals around the room. They cast an almost haunting glow throughout the room, and the effect would only increase as dusk settled in outside.

“Hmph. If they think they’re going to just waltz in here and expect us to bow down to them, they’re dead wrong.” But they both knew that they would have to comply, regardless.

“If they’re going to make a show of force, then let’s make a show of defiance.” Yuuri settled down on his chosen spot, a few lengths in front of the pedestal. He replaced all the anxiety and fear that had been welling up for the last hour with anger, feeling the aether churn around him in response—echoing the turmoil he felt inside. But on the outside, he kept his face carefully blank.

“I’m going to miss you,” Minami whispered sadly, going to his chosen spot as well.

“I’m not gone quite yet,” Yuuri reminded him lightly. Minami quirked a smile at that, but it was replaced with a frown again after he sighed heavily.

“You sure we can’t just grab the tablet and run? You know I’d come with you.”

“I know.” Though Yuuri would never allow him along, would never steal the boy’s future away like that. Minami was perhaps _too_ loyal, but Yuuri couldn’t fault him for that. It took a great deal of bravery to be that way—and even to be here, right now, ready to face down the Emperor of the Rossiyan Empire. Yuuri would miss him, too. “But if we run, we can never stop running. And they would catch us before we could make it out of imperial space, anyway.” Not to mention, Yuuri had no real idea as to _why_ the empire was after the tablet or his own role in it. Acting without having all necessary pieces of a puzzle was foolish.

Still though, there was a small part of him that had wanted to run the moment he’d gotten the first vision of this day.

“I don’t want to think about what would happen if they caught us,” Minami said with a shudder. Yuuri shared his sentiment, trying to will away thoughts of execution, torture, or something happening to his family or homeworld. The empire was not known to be cruel, but it was also not exactly a paragon of mercy. And since they were dealing with the Emperor directly, anything could happen.

The two of them waited in silence as the evening grew heavier. Yuuri slipped into his meditations in an attempt to keep himself as calm as possible, willing away his nerves. Any minute now they would hear imperial troops storm the temple and he had to be ready.

For a long while, nothing happened. The only thing Yuuri could hear was the sound of his own breathing, and Minami shifting every now and then by the open doorway. Most likely the Emperor was in _negotiations_ with his parents—who were probably stalling the man and his forces in order to buy Yuuri more time. It gave Yuuri strength to know that his family and his people were on his side, not the empire’s.

For them, he could do this. He had to do this.

Minami’s sharp intake of breath is what alerted Yuuri that the time had come. With his view obstructed by Minami standing in the doorway and the distance too far to sense with his abilities, he couldn’t tell how many soldiers had arrived. But it didn’t matter, anyway. His performance would remain the same regardless.

As the Emperor and his retinue drew closer—about when they were in the courtyard, probably—is when Yuuri was able to sense them. Two particularly strong presences almost caught him off guard—the aetherial interference they caused making his head swim for a moment until he was able to cut through it. From what he could estimate, there were about six or seven imperials approaching, the Emperor included. He’d seen plenty of vids to know what a daunting image they must present, and if the slight tremble in Minami’s hand where it gripped the doorway was any indicator, the vids had been accurate.

The sound of boots against stone grew steadily louder until it echoed off the walls to the point where it was almost deafening. Shadows grew close enough for Yuuri to see past where Minami was standing and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steel himself one last time. He heard Minami step aside and reached out mentally to curl his own aether around the boy in secret solidarity. Only when he felt Minami calm considerably did Yuuri open his eyes to see what stood in front of him.

Looming in the doorway was an imposing man like Yuuri had never seen before. Tall and broad shouldered, he wore the unmistakable black and gold uniform of the Imperial Navy. That, plus a long cloak which fell from his shoulders to the floor—blood red in color from the dim lighting. His eyes, too, seemed nearly black in this lighting, but Yuuri knew them to be a cruel blue. His dark brown hair was short and his face clean-shaven to reveal a strong, square jaw and straight nose. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, but his expression was as carefully neutral as Yuuri’s own. The Emperor had his hands clasped behind his back, giving him a posture that made him look even more commanding than he already seemed. Only Yuuri’s years of meditation kept him steady now.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Yuuri greeted in a tone that was so deceptively calm that he even surprised himself. He made no attempt to stand, as would normally be customary. Instead, Yuuri let the Emperor and his men take in the picture he worked hard to paint: gently floating aetherlights illuminating the circular room in with an eerie glow, while he sat with practiced grace in front of the pedestal like a ghostly sentinel, clad in white, quietly rebellious in front of the most powerful man in the galaxy. Irrespective of whatever happened to him afterwards, Yuuri wanted the Emperor and his men to remember this.

It was all he could do, for now.

“You must be Prince Yuuri.” The Emperor’s voice was deep, reverberating through the room and filling up the space immediately in a way Yuuri’s own could never do. Yuuri hated him for it. Hated everything about the man, just on instinct. Again, the aether around him curled inwards though the Emperor hadn’t moved any closer.

“I am,” Yuuri said, staying seated where he was and giving the impression that he every intention of staying that way. He could feel the tension slowly rising, bit by bit, and he cast a quick glance to make sure Minami was alright. The boy stood next to the doorway still, one hand against the wall to brace himself, the other clenched tightly in his robe. He wasn’t looking at the Emperor, really, instead staring past him at the far wall, his expression tight with some mixture of rage and terror. Yuuri kept tendrils of aether wrapped around the boy protectively, just to ground him if nothing else. By being there, Minami had lent Yuuri his strength, and now Yuuri hoped to lend the boy some of his own.

The Emperor regarded him for a moment before stepping inside the room properly, then to the side a little. Because of how narrow the doorway was, Yuuri hadn’t been able see beyond him. Now, however, he got a good look at the other imperial soldiers—all clad in the same uniform as their Emperor, but sans cape, obviously. In the very front stood a young man Yuuri _instantly_ recognized, no introductions needed. The silver hair gave away the man’s identity as the famed Crown Prince of the empire.

Growing up, Yuuri had seen vid after vid about the man—almost a celebrity more so than a to-be monarch. Maybe that wasn’t surprising, given how attractive the man was. Apart from the striking hair was a handsome face and blue eyes far more vibrant than his father’s. He was tall and well-built; not as imposing as the Emperor, but just as unforgettable. But his fame was a product of more than just that, Yuuri had to admit. It was also because of how skilled he apparently was in terms of military tactics. Crown Prince Victor had once defended the outlying imperial world of Kyreta from a siege by foreign pirates. The siege had lasted nearly three cycles until the prince—then only twenty-two—had somehow snuck aboard one of the enemy ships and laid waste to the crew before destroying much of the enemy fleet, allowing for Kyreta’s own forces to clean up the rest. He’d been given command of his own private unit—now almost as famed as the prince himself—not long after that. And in the five years since, FROST became known throughout the galaxy for being ruthlessly efficient, whether it be in imperial space or not.

Yuuri suddenly realized that if had decided to run, it wouldn’t be the Emperor chasing him down—it would be Prince Victor. Given the man’s perfect record, Yuuri would scarcely make it past his own cluster before being caught. The realization only served to sharpen Yuuri’s anger further, as did the calm gaze the man gave him. There had been a moment, however, a second of what might have been surprise on the Crown Prince’s face upon seeing Yuuri’s display, before it was quickly replaced by the serene look he had on now.

Everyone in this room was wearing a mask.

He stepped a little to the side as well, after brief moment, revealing another soldier. This one had blonde hair peeking out from underneath his cap, but his undercut was dark. In the dim lighting, the color of his eyes were difficult to discern, but from what Yuuri could make out, they were green or hazel. His expression was a lot less guarded—his bewilderment was worn far more clearly and Yuuri felt a modicum of satisfaction.

“Surely you know why we’re here,” the Crown Prince asked in a tone that was surprisingly mild. His voice was not as deep as his father’s—but smooth and rich and _pleasant_. Yuuri hated it, too, but he couldn’t very well make his distaste known. Locking down all his feelings, he responded with what he’d rehearsed in his head for hours, days, months.

“Of course.” A pause. “You’ve come for the tablet.”

“This one is only a fragment of a much larger codex,” the Emperor explained, though stopped there and gave a low hum before continuing. “Likely you know this already, yes?”

“Yes,” Yuuri confirmed. “But before you ask, Your Eminence, I don’t know where it leads or what its for. My people have guarded this relic for millennia—much of our culture sprouted around it, after all. But even then, we know very little about it, though not for lack of trying. Some secrets may simply be lost for good.”

“Be that as it may, young Prince Yuuri, I believe such secrets were meant to be uncovered. And I fully intend to scour this galaxy until I see where this all leads,” the Emperor said, almost as though he was speaking to a child. _I hope you die searching_ , Yuuri thought darkly before the Emperor continued. “Your fragment is necessary to this cause, of course.”

“It’s not all that’s necessary, is it?” Yuuri asked, turning away from the Emperor and closing his eyes. If he hadn’t been used to meditating for hours in this similar posture, his legs would surely have gone numb by now. Still, he didn’t move to stand just yet. It was almost surprising that he’d been allowed to stay seated while in the presence of two most powerful people in the galaxy. He half expected to be yanked up at some point or another “I know what else you’ve come here for, Your Eminence.”

“Ah, then it makes things less awkward.” Prince Victor was the one to speak this time around, with that easygoing attitude and a small smile on his face. He stepped forward, reaching down a hand to presumably help Yuuri up. Yuuri hadn’t expected that, in all honesty. He stared at the gloved hand offered to him, then met the Crown Prince’s clear eyes. Something about the gesture irritated him so he huffed softly, turning his head to the side to indicate that he was uninterested in Prince Victor’s courtesy.

This was probably also the part where, under normal circumstances, he would be forcibly hauled up by the other soldiers and dragged off somewhere to _reeducate_ him about proper etiquette when interacting with the imperial family.

But Yuuri was confident (maybe too confident) and prideful (definitely too prideful) in this situation. He knew which way the wind was blowing and both the Emperor and his son no doubt knew as well: they needed Yuuri. It gave him a certain amount of immunity, a certain amount of freedom to do things his way rather than theirs. At least for now. He was going to take advantage of it while he could.

And so, no one touched him.

The Crown Prince merely withdrew his hand, a slender eyebrow quirked in interest, and exchanged a quick glance with the blonde soldier to his right. Still, Yuuri knew he could no longer stay seated. That part of the performance was over—now to move onto the next. And so he rose to his feet in a single movement, the aether surrounding him curled in just the right way to help him up while making him seem weightless. For an extra flourish, he caused the aether around him to glow, ever so slightly, and saw Minami’s eyes widen at the sight.

Maybe it unwise of him to be showing off like this, but Yuuri would _not_ be made powerless on his own turf. He wanted to see how far he could push, to see exactly where his soon-to-be-imposed limits were going to be. And moreover, he wanted the Emperor and these soldiers to take him seriously. Even if that meant as a potential threat.

“I have no choice but to… accompany you, I know.” Yuuri turned to face the pedestal, looking upon the stone tablet housed behind the faintly glimmering shield. It felt wrong, horribly wrong, to know that in a few moments this pedestal would be empty; suddenly useless after millennia of being a locus of culture and veneration.

“It will be an honor to serve the empire,” the Emperor said in a tone that made it clear that either Yuuri should feel grateful for the opportunity, or he should keep his mouth shut and do as he was ordered. Yuuri detested the very thought of both.

“Of course,” he said simply. Behind him he heard shuffling and looked over his shoulder to see two soldiers coming forward with a large black case that Yuuri could guess the purpose of. The Emperor stepped close to the pedestal, almost into Yuuri’s space, and inspected the tablet with a low hum of appreciation.

“Someone recorded a vid of you interacting with this fragment,” the Emperor said, causing Yuuri to freeze on the spot. So _that’s_ how they came to know all that they did. Ever since the visions of this day began, the question of how imperial forces knew of the tablet’s location in Yamato and how they would know to take Yuuri along with it had plagued him. Over time, Yuuri had begun to suspect something like a secret vid getting out but it still left the question of who had done it. It was inconceivable to think it was any of the other priests—he would trust them with his life. But the temple was open to the public from sunrise to sunset, so it could very well be anyone. Surely it was nothing more than an accident—a zealous temple-goer who took a vid and shared it, not knowing what the consequences would be. After all, the only thing an average viewer would see was a fancy display of magic. Most people wouldn’t even know the significance of what they were looking at, much less recognize the tablet as a fragment of some lost ancient codex.

But of course someone enraptured in the search for said codex would instantly recognize it. At this point, Yuuri was only surprised that it had taken this long for imperial forces to come across the vid. It had been several months since he’d last performed any ceremonies, which would have been when the vid was recorded. Ah, but Yuuri figured that he may as well be glad that he’d been given those precious few months in between to live his life as usual (relatively speaking) before… well, _this_.

“I thought as much,” Yuuri sighed. There was no helping it. He couldn’t change the past, after all. “Anyway, your men seem eager to _confiscate_ the tablet, Your Eminence, so if you’ll allow me….”

The Emperor gave him a look before nodding curtly. Yuuri disabled the force field around the pedestal with a single passive flick of his wrist and the soft buzz of the aether crystals deactivating was heard, confirming that there was now nothing between the Emperor and the tablet. Nothing except Yuuri himself, of course. Behind him, one of the soldiers opened up the case which turned out to be lined with soft foam and had a large recess in which the tablet could safely be kept.

Minami had moved from his position to the door and had made his way over to the pedestal as well. He was still very clearly scared—his fists still clenched tightly at his sides and his face giving away far too much emotion—but he’d grown considerably calmer in the few minutes that had passed by now. He nodded solemnly at Yuuri when they made eye contact and Yuuri nodded back.

This was it. There was no putting it off any longer.

Rolling his shoulders, Yuuri slowly brought up his hands to either side of the tablet, fingers outstretched. All the while he reached out to it with his aether, weaving through the short distance, and coiling around it as he’d done many times before. At first, nothing happened. At first, nothing _ever_ happened. But then a few breaths later, he felt the tablet _hum_ to life. It began to glow a faint white-blue color—the runes lighting up brilliantly—and the intensity increased slightly with every passing second as tendrils extended from the thing and wrapped themselves around Yuuri’s forearms. More than anything, he felt its warmth—felt a pulsating sort of radiance that was impossible to describe in any language that existed in the galaxy. There were no words for this. There were only emotions, feelings, sensations; intangible things that had to be experienced to understand—and even then, an understanding of this nature was a capricious thing at best.

This was always a strangely emotional thing for Yuuri and he never knew why. The tablet couldn’t possibly have emotions of its own, but interacting with it in this way he felt a sense of attachment that was wholly different from that one would have for a childhood toy or favorite blanket. And now, he felt an odd sense of sadness—like he was parting ways with an old friend, saying good bye. Maybe it was also because of the guilt he felt at failing his duty. Yuuri didn’t know for sure, couldn’t place what he was feeling no matter how hard he tried.

Though he was focused on the tablet, Yuuri could hear a few awed murmurs from the soldiers behind him. A few more when he raised his hands higher and caused the tablet to lift from its resting spot on the pedestal. The aetherlights around the room had flickered out, but they weren’t needed any longer—not when the light from the tablet and the surrounding aether was so luminous.

“Phenomenal,” he heard the Emperor breathe from beside him. This is what the man had come to see, Yuuri knew. There was no reason otherwise for the Emperor himself to travel down to this humble planet when he could have easily sent his men to collect the tablet instead. Sooner or later, the man would have asked for a demonstration—to see Yuuri’s gift with his own eyes and confirm that it wasn’t a hoax—and Yuuri just figured it was best to get it out of the way.

Yuuri backed up a little so he was closer to the case, and the tablet moved with him. Suspended in the air, it seemed weightless but in reality it weighed enough that several people were needed to lift it. As he turned, he rotated the tablet so it was horizontal before slowly lowering it into the case. As its weight settled, Yuuri felt himself reluctant to let go of the thing. His aether was still mingled with that of the tablet and it almost felt like the tablet didn’t want to let go either—it tendrils still tightly coiled around Yuuri’s forearms. _I’m sorry_ , he thought, knowing that his words were pointless and would do little to assuage his guilt.

After a quiet moment, Yuuri finally released it—retracting his aether and pulling away, feeling the wispy tendrils around his arms slip off as he severed the connection between himself and this strange fragment of something he didn’t understand maybe never would.

He stepped back as soldiers surrounded the case, snapping it shut. One of them pulled up a holopanel—an interface beamed from the back of a specialized glove that all soldiers wore—and pressed a few things on it, causing the case to suddenly levitate a little. Yuuri figured it was either crystals or tiny jets at work there, obviously to help lighten the load. Other soldiers took hold of the handles—two on each side—and began carrying the case out with synchronized steps.

“An impressive display, Your Grace,” the Crown Prince said as Yuuri watched the soldiers go. Yuuri didn’t turn to look at him. “Please allow us to escort you back to the palace.”

“Of course,” Yuuri said, keeping his tone as neutral as possible and his expression unreadable. As an afterthought he added “Thank you.” But he didn’t want to be _escorted_ anywhere. He wanted to sink to the ground and sob in private—let it all out until he felt empty and hollow because anything would be better than the despair threatening to consume him as they stood in this now-useless room. Minami came up to him, clutching at his sleeve in a gesture that could only be described as desperately possessive, but it served to comfort Yuuri at least a little. He placed his hand over Minami’s and as they were led out of the temple—the Emperor striding silently in the front, his robe billowing behind him—they walked like that, grasping each other without speaking a word between them. None were necessary. None would matter.

In front of the temple gates was the shuttle Minami had informed him of earlier. Like the dreadnought still hanging above (which was now a black blot against a darkening sky), the imperial insignia was loudly emblazoned on the side. Even in the fading light it was easy to see, or rather, hard to miss. There were a few townsfolk around, some of them watching from their windows or doorways and others huddled under streetlamps in small groups nearby—all of them ready to dart indoors to safety at a moment’s notice, no doubt. Everyone was whispering amongst themselves, probably concocting theory after theory as to what was happening. None of them were very subtle, but they were all talking in the local dialect, not Galactic Standard, so there was little risk of them being understood by imperial forces. Yuuri wished he could say something to them. He wish he could tell them everything was fine and for them to return to their homes. But with the Emperor only a few feet away from him, he was reluctant to speak. Instead, he caught the eye of one of the bystanders and gave her a small smile. She smiled back at him with a little nod, as did those around her. The crowd seemed to settle a bit after that, and Yuuri was glad. The last thing he wanted was for someone to do something rash. As long as imperial forces were in Hasetsu, everybody had to be on their best behavior.

Well, mostly.

The shuttle door facing them lifted open and the soldiers carrying the case boarded first, carefully hoisting the case up together and tucking it near the back. The Emperor boarded next, followed by the other soldiers. Minami boarded afterwards and just as Yuuri was about to do the same, Prince Victor held out his hand once more, in an attempt to help him up.

Yuuri ignored him and hauled himself up by the nearby handle like everyone else instead. Briefly and privately enjoying the look of incredulity on the Crown Prince’s face, he settled into the seat next to Minami as the Crown Prince sat next to his father. No one else had seen what just happened—apart from possibly the other FROST soldier, who just looked amused. He said something to Prince Victor, but it was muted by the hum of the engine starting and the crackling of the shields going up.

The shuttle lifted off smoothly, but Minami still visibly tensed up. The boy was unused to flying, having only left Hasetsu once or twice by air, and commercial ships were very different than this. Yuuri himself had only been on a few military crafts (belonging to Yamato’s small militia) before when he’d needed to go to nearby systems for diplomatic reasons. He patted Minami’s knee reassuringly before turning his attention out the window. 

The last slivers of light still remained near the horizon, but the soft orange glow of sunset had been replaced by a monochrome blue that grew ever darker. The city seemed so different from above, illuminated by soft streetlamps and moonlight. Out of the front window, Yuuri could see the palace—resting atop the cliff side, lights from inside twinkling in the darkness against the backdrop of a shimmering ocean. Yuuri wondered if he would ever see such a beautiful sight again.

The shadowy form of the royal palace grew larger as they neared the landing pad. The shuttle set down as smoothly as it had taken off, and Minami seemed to let go of the breath he’d been holding since then. Both loading doors opened and of course, the Emperor was the first to stand and exit, followed by everyone else. One of the attendants of the landing pad had rushed over, helping both Minami and Yuuri down, and bowing to them and then the Emperor.

“Please, if you’ll follow me,” the attendant said, starting towards the main gates when the Emperor loudly cleared his throat. Yuuri, Minami, and the rest turned to look.

“Actually, I’ll be returning to the _Helius_ with the fragment,” the Emperor said to Yuuri directly. Yuuri wasn’t surprised actually, especially given the fact that the shuttle pilot hadn’t disembarked or turned off the engines (and since the tablet remained onboard). “I’ve already informed the King and Queen, Prince Yuuri. My son and a few men will stay and help you gather your things so that you may rendezvous with us in the morning.”

“I see,” Yuuri said flatly. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”

The Emperor only tilted his head in acknowledgement before re-boarding the shuttle with a handful of men (the same ones who had carried the tablet, Yuuri noticed). They took off mere moments later, before the doors were even fully closed, and Yuuri was left awkwardly staring at the Crown Prince—who, annoyingly, seemed unperturbed—and his lackeys.

“So then, if you’ll follow me,” the attendant said in a slightly louder-than-necessary voice. Yuuri was glad for it and quickly fell into step behind the man; the others following them more leisurely.

“That was kInd of weird,” Minami whispered after they passed through gilded gates and Yuuri had to agree. At least it meant the Emperor was gone, for now. Beyond the gates was a walkway lined with flowers and fountains alike, winding slightly as it led to a grand atrium. There, more servants in cleanly-pressed uniforms came forward to receive them, along with Yuuri’s sister.

“Welcome home,” Mari said, rushing forward as soon as Yuuri had crossed the threshold. She threw her arms around him and squeezed, catching Yuuri a little off guard before he hugged her back. Mari was not normally one for hugs, but she always knew when Yuuri needed some extra comfort. And she was usually not one to dress up, but of course for the time being she was wearing a beautiful burgundy gown which was a far cry from the plain lilac-colored robes she’d been wearing that morning. In her carefully styled hair sat an elegant headdress announcing her status as future queen of Yamato. And yet, they were all just barely above commoners so as far as the empire was concerned; just local diplomats who were allowed to retain their titles and territory following annexation, but were subject to all imperial laws and taxes. Though perhaps it was fortunate they had been allowed that much, at least. Life in the empire was not terrible by any means—was even advantageous at times—even if it did permit for sudden invasion by imperial forces at any given moment.

“Dinner will be served shortly,” one of the servants announced. Then she turned to Prince Victor and his men, bidding them to follow her to the guest quarters. The Crown Prince gave Yuuri another glance before following the servant with his men and Yuuri wondered if the man had been watching him this entire time. He’d walked in front, so he’d have no way of knowing if that were the case. Not that he really cared, of course.

“Ugh,” was all he could manage once he was sure the Crown Prince and his men were out of earshot. Mari patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

“Did he do or say anything?”

“No,” Yuuri said. “I just don’t like him. Spoiled and entitled, I bet.”

“It’s not like you to judge someone so harshly when you don’t even know them, Yuuri,” Mari chastised, though she didn’t actually seem very bothered by it.

“Maybe I’m just bitter,” he offered.

“And you should be!” Minami exclaimed from beside him. “This whole thing is unfair!”

“Even so, we all knew this was coming,” Mari sighed, brushing off imaginary dust from Yuuri’s robe. “With luck, you won’t have to interact much with him.”

“Yeah, I’ll have the pleasure of getting to interact with the Emperor instead.”

“He doesn’t seem that _evil_ , either. I mean is it unfair? Yeah, it is. But he gave us a heads-up to let us know he was coming, then met with mom and dad and explained the situation, and then escorted you back here,” she said. “Maybe he threw around his weight a little, but he’s _the Emperor_ , so honestly no surprise there.”

“Really? No thinly veiled threats to wipe Hasetsu from existence if I don’t comply?”

Mari quirked an eyebrow at him and shook her head before she spoke. “Yuuri, I know you don’t like this and trust me, you aren’t alone in that sentiment. We all tried to argue to keep you here, but we knew from the beginning that it wasn’t possible. You know that better than anyone. So what’s really bothering you? You’re clearly on edge.”

Minami seemed to have understood the upcoming discussion as something private, so he quietly excused himself for the evening. He and his family lived nearby, just barely off palace grounds, so it was just a short walk away. Yuuri and Mari both bid him goodnight before ascending the nearby staircase. It was softly carpeted and led to a long hallway where their quarters were located. A few paintings and flower vases lined either side, arranged at intervals, and large windows on one side were perfect viewing points for the gardens below.

“I’m not afraid of leaving, Mari,” Yuuri said at last, as they fell into step next to one another. “Even if something should happen to me and I never get to come back—”

“Shut up,” Mari said sharply, gripping his arm, her face stern in a way it rarely ever was. “That’s not going to happen. Don’t you even _dare_ think about something like that.”

“I’m just saying that we can’t be sure of their intentions. I don’t know what the fragment is for, but I’m the only one that can interact with it. They can’t do anything to me until they get their hands on whatever they’re searching for, but after that… I could be the only thing standing between them and ‘it’—whatever ‘ _it’_ is.” Yuuri explained. They’d had this discussion before maybe a dozen times, but now it was weighted with a sense of urgency and desperation.

“What is it with you and imagining worst-case scenarios all the time?” Mari asked, exasperated already. “Can’t you be optimistic for once? You said yourself that you don’t know what the fragments all lead to, right? It could be something that could help the galaxy. Maybe it could lead to something as innocuous a lost library.”

“Why split the codex into fragments and scatter it across the galaxy if a library was all to be found? That doesn’t make sense. It probably leads to an ancient weapon of some sort. Don’t delude yourself into thinking it’s not.” The Emperor clearly knew that—otherwise, there was no reason for him to venture after it so fervently. It couldn’t be that big of a mystery. Whoever (or whatever) had split the codex clearly done so for a reason.

“This is a pointless argument. You’re going to be pessimistic about everything and I’m going to be as optimistic as possible _for your sake_ , and we’re just going to go in circles,” Mari huffed, throwing up her hands in surrender. The loose ornaments in her hair jingled a little at the movement. “Forget it. Tonight of all nights, I’m not going to argue with you.”

“You’re right—I’m sorry. I’m just… tense.” Yuuri sighed dejectedly but Mari took his hand in hers and squeezed. He wished he could share her optimism—and that was a funny thing, as Mari was usually the most realistic person he knew—but in his mind all he could think of was how everything could go horribly wrong. Even now, it took everything he had just to keep from breaking down.

They parted ways once Mari dropped him off in his room, giving him another hug. And that was another funny thing—Yuuri couldn’t remember Mari being one for hugs before now, but he supposed if your sibling was about to be whisked away for who knows long, a few hugs wouldn’t hurt. In any case, he was glad to accept them, knowing that he would miss her terribly.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” he said before closing the door as she left, giving himself the freedom to retreat into his own thoughts for the time being. He moved away from the door and into his bedroom, proper. It wasn’t terribly large or extravagant, but it was tastefully decorated. A cream and gold motif for the walls and flooring was accented with deep, rich blues like the upholstery of his sofa and the embroidered sheets on his bed.

A vanity was on the other side of the room from the sitting area and near it was a small panel atop a thin, waist-height pedestal. Yuuri went over to it and pressed his hand against the metal surface to activate it. A holopanel popped up and he tapped a little bell icon to summon his valet. He’d need to change into dinner clothes soon and it would be easier if he had an extra pair of hands to help him out of his heavy ceremonial robes now.

As he waited, Yuuri promised himself that he wouldn’t be too upset when the robes came off. He promised himself that he’d maintain a calm demeanor befitting of someone of his station for the rest of the night. He promised himself that he would attend what may be his final dinner in his home—at least for a long time—and be as cordial as possible to their guests. And he promised himself that he wouldn’t cry or show any weakness.

But by the time his valet knocked at his door, Yuuri knew he would be breaking at least one of those promises soon.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” Victor mused, gazing through arched window. He and Chris were staying here, in a lofty guest bedroom, while the rest of the soldiers were in rooms nearby. There were no barracks near the palace and the one down by the docks was small, already filled by personnel from Yamato’s militia. Victor couldn’t complain, though. Staying at the palace itself was convenient, if nothing else.

“Well, Prince Yuuri certainly knows how to make a first impression.” Chris was lounging on the sofa that separated the two comfortable beds in the room. The chamber was simple, rooted in the classic and traditional styles of Yamato. There was an attached bathroom and a call panel should they wish to summon a servant or need something, along with a large screen mounted on the far wall should they want to watch anything. However, the best thing about the room was probably the view. Since the palace was perched atop the cliff, they had an unimpeded view to the endless ocean beyond, where moonlight glittered off the dark waves.

“That’s an understatement,” Victor said, turning away from the window and draping himself on top of the chaise by the sofa. Both of them had removed their jackets and boots for the time being, but soon they’d have to put them back on for dinner. After the first servant—whose name was Yumiko, Victor learned—had led them to the guest room, another had quietly come by to leave a pair of nightclothes for them. It was a thoughtful gesture, seeing as how neither of them had brought a change of clothes. Victor hadn’t actually expected to stay the night and he didn’t know whether or not his father was being lenient in giving Prince Yuuri extra time to prepare, or if he just wanted to use that time to pour over the codex fragment alone. Surely now that he’d seen the young prince’s display, he’d want to spend time examining it in private. Speaking of said display….

“It was bold, don’t you think?” Chris asked him.

“Absolutely. Such _elegant_ defiance—I don’t think that was lost on any of us in that room.” It had been so deliberate and beautifully stunning. And yet it wasn’t like the prince had been flaunting anything. He was just showcasing his ability, and after all, isn’t that what the Emperor wanted to see anyway? But it had been a performance, too, and Victor found himself more than just a little intrigued.

“So was his clear distaste for you,” Chris chuckled.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Victor sighed, wondering how he could have possibly gotten off the wrong foot with Prince Yuuri when he’d barely said more than a sentence to him.

“You didn’t have to. Guilt by association,” Chris said with an apologetic shrug. Victor groaned—that was always the case, wasn’t it?

“But I think I’m in love.” It was overly dramatic, sure, but Victor couldn’t deny the fact that he was captivated. There was something about surprises that excited him—and maybe he could psychoanalyze that further as being a result of his general frustration at monotony—and the young prince’s performance had been absolutely striking. Whatever Victor had expected, it hadn’t been that. It hadn’t been those dark eyes filled with furious rebelliousness, that lovely face held in careful neutrality. The juxtaposition of the two was jarring, to think that such discord could exist in a person who was evidently a paragon of harmony.

It was fascinating, and Victor wanted to know more.

Perfect attunement was extremely rare and from what he knew, took years of dedicated practice under the tutelage of someone who knew what they were doing. Whenever he’d imagined anyone of such skill, he’d envisioned something like old hermits who lived in the middle of nowhere with few worldly possessions. After all, that’s what was portrayed in every story he’d ever heard as a child. He would have never expected a gorgeous young man who seemed so... unassuming.

“You’re in love with someone you just met and who has every reason to hate you?” Chris asked, an eyebrow raised and one edge of his lip quirked upwards in amusement.

“Well, I mean—”

“He didn’t even take your hand when you offered it. Twice, by the way.”

“I know, I can count,” Victor said flatly, staring at his first officer with a deep frown. He leaned back against the chaise and sighed. That had been surprising too, though in a far less enjoyable way.

“Your father seems keen to monopolize him, too. He’ll be stuck on the _Helius_.” Chris could be right about that, but Victor shuddered at the very idea.

“Don’t worry. I have a few tricks up my sleeve to get him aboard the _Corona_ ,” Victor said, waving his hand in the air a little to dispel any negative thoughts. “I’m hoping for some good news from the Nexus sector.”

“Our scouts found something?” Chris leaned forward, his interest immediately piqued.

“They’re out confirming whether or not that ‘something’ is actually anything of note, but I’m hoping it is. It’ll be the easiest and quickest way to convince my father to let the prince accompany us instead,” Victor said, shrugging a shoulder. “I could make a case for needing the prince’s unique talents. Either way, it’s only plan A. I won’t put all my eggs in one basket, not when it’s something like this. But I still hope it pans out. Like I said—this is just the fastest way.”

“What are the chances?”

“I’m not sure. Our intel was solid and I have the _Solstice_ overseeing it. Crispino and Nekola are a good team. If everything goes right, I’ll have their report waiting for me by the time we get back to the _Corona_ tomorrow.” Victor was optimistic about this and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. There were certainly other ways to convince his father, for sure, but it felt nice to be able to depend on a straightforward plan for once.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” Chris said with a nod just as there was a knock at the door. Victor slipped on his boots and shrugged on his jacket before going to answer and as he suspected, it was Yumiko again. She stood there, her hands clasped neatly in front of her, very purposefully not making eye contact with him as she spoke.

“Your Imperial Highness,” she began, bowing her head, “The royal family of Yamato has invited you to dinner and would be honored if you and your first officer chose to accept.”

Formalities—Victor hated these more than anything, but they were an integral part of his life he would never be able to truly escape. “We would be honored,” he said using his princely voice in response. In a less formal tone he asked before she left, “Ah, will Prince Yuuri be there?”

Yumiko looked surprised at the question, meeting his eyes as her eyebrows arched high, but only for a second before she dropped her gaze again. “Of course, Your Excellency. His Grace will be present.”

“Wonderful!” Victor said brightly as Chris came up behind him, boots and jacket already on. “Please lead the way.”

With a polite bow, Yumiko led them through the hallways again, more-or-less retracing the path they’d taken to get here for a good while. Victor lamented that he wouldn’t get to see more of the palace, but from what he’d seen so far, it was enchanting. Traditional architecture was mixed with modern principles of design, and there was not an inch of space that was wasteful or superfluous. Beauty had not been sacrificed for utility, with elegant engravings and designs seamlessly integrated into sleek panels set into the carved limestone.

They took a turn down an unfamiliar hallway at some point through, and Victor saw to his right a peaceful courtyard with a fountain beyond a peristyle—and Victor was reminded of his own home, the Imperial Palace of Rossiya, where he’d grown up. It was not an uncommon feature throughout the galaxy, no, but Victor was amazed to see how easily it had been integrated among the unique architecture of Yamato. But with how free commerce spread through the galaxy and brought with it the exchange of various elements and ideas of many different cultures, it was not surprising. Among the more developed regions of the empire, there was certainly an underlying similarity to things like this.

As they made their way deeper into the palace, they came across only a handful of people. A few servants dressed in robes similar to Yumiko, two ladies who hid their faces bashfully behind decorated fans as they vanished down a nearby hallway, and a Den’ari man who bowed deeply until they had passed, his gills fluttering slightly.

“I thought I saw a few Den’ari on our way here,” Chris remarked once they were out of earshot.

“Yamato has a large population of Den’ari,” Yumiko helpfully informed them. Den’ari were quite human-like with the main exception being their robust gills on either side of their neck which allowed them to spend long periods underwater as well as on land. It was due to the nature of their homeworld, which was almost entirely ocean apart from small landmasses distributed unevenly across the planet’s surface. They were generally taller and lankier, their skin a rougher texture with a soft blue or purple hue, and their eyes large and round. In water, webbing between their long fingers and toes helped them to swim long distances with relative ease. Most Den’ari preferred worlds like Yamato—with vast oceans—but there were many on drier planets as well.

There was not much to say on the matter, so both Victor and Chris allowed themselves to be led right along until they reached a large atrium. Several hallways opened up into it, like a hub, and on one side was a set of large doors decorated with a magnificent relief and adorned with gold leaf. Victor recognized the relief to be that of a flowering tree for which Yamato was famous—the cherry blossom. He’d seen it when he’d gone through the briefing files back on the _Helius,_ and recognized it first from the beautiful embroidery on Prince Yuuri’s robes hours before.

And as fate would have it, once they were near the center of the atrium they heard footsteps from the nearby hallway before Prince Yuuri came into view. He seemed to startle at the sight of them, grasping at the nearby wall for a moment until he quickly composed himself. It was that same neutral face he’d worn back at the temple—a mask, but an exquisite one nonetheless. Shimmering brown eyes, a delicately curved nose, and plush red lips. Victor had travelled across the galaxy and even he had _rarely_ come across such effortless beauty.

Prince Yuuri was dressed now in a robe that was a rich dark blue and had silver threading carefully woven along the seams and hems, as well as the collar. It was simple with no overt designs, but the craftsmanship was unmistakable as being of the highest quality—it showed in the lustriousness of the fabric and with each perfect stitch. In his hair sat a silver circlet with delicate engraved patterns. It gleamed in the lighting of the hall as though it was adorned with crystals, though it was not. The young prince’s ensemble was so simple yet Victor still found himself struck speechless.

“Your Grace,” Yumiko greeted him with a low bow. Prince Yuuri nodded in her direction in return, his expression softening incrementally.

Victor regained his ability to form words relatively quickly and tried, “Good evening, Your Grace.” Prince Yuuri looked at him cautiously, his hand tightly clutched in his robes.

“Good evening, Your Excellency,” the prince bid him, the frown remaining. Victor was unused to being referred to like that, mostly because he avoided anyone who would do so, and instead preferred the relative informality between himself and his crewmates. It was almost jarring. Still, it was too early to get on a first-name basis with the prince (but Victor wasn’t going to give up hope, not when he hadn’t even started trying yet).

“I’m afraid we haven’t been properly acquainted, Your Royal Highness” Chris said after that, bowing respectfully before introducing himself, “I’m Major Christophe Giacometti. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise, Major,” Prince Yuuri said amicably, nodding once in acknowledgement. He then turned towards the large doors without another word. Yumiko gestured for Victor and Chris to follow her as she fell into step behind the young prince.

The large doors silently opened as they approached, revealing the room beyond to be a lavish dining hall. Around the room were various decorations—beautiful paintings, intricate tapestries, among other things. In one corner Victor spied a peculiar statue wearing a kind of armor he’d never seen before—made of plates closely woven together—and a long, thin sword sitting in front of it. It was all safely enclosed within a barrier and was no doubt something of great value and antiquity. Everything in this room likely was; an effort to awe guests with the things Yamato was most proud of.

In the center was a circular, glossy, black table and matching chairs arranged around it. Above was a stunning chandelier shaped like branches of a cherry blossom tree, with the glass flowers glowing as they radiated a warm light that filled the hall. It hung suspended in the air, though attached to nothing, the branches rotating very slowly in various directions while some of the free flowers bobbed gently. It was a wonderful display of basic magic.

Already seated at the table were the King, Queen, and Crown Princess of Yamato. All of them were dressed immaculately though in the same simplistic fashion as Prince Yuuri, and Victor was quickly beginning to appreciate the style. He’d grown so used to the dramatic and outlandish garments of his homeworld that this was a refreshing change. The royal family rose when Victor crossed the threshold. Prince Yuuri quickly went to his seat next to his sister while Victor and Chris were directed towards the opposite side of the table by Yumiko, so that Victor was seated next to the King.

Yumiko bowed to the royal family and scurried out of the hall, the large doors closing behind her. King Toshiya opened his arms in a sign of welcome before gesturing for everyone to be seated. “We’re honored the both of you have joined us for dinner tonight, Your Imperial Highness and Major Giacometti,” he said in a friendly voice. He wore a light blue set of robes and on his head sat a small but brilliantly decorated crown denoting his status. He wasn’t a very imposing man, nor did he have a particularly commanding presence, but his smile was wise. It was clear that he and his family were beloved by their people for no other reason than the fact that they were kind and just. They didn’t demand anything from their people—all the respect and love they’d garnered was freely given to them.

“The honor is ours, I assure you,” Victor replied. They were past introductions already, having gone through them when the Emperor had stormed in hours ago. Though it was impossible to ever get beyond formalities when you were dealing with rulers or politicians on any level. Chris bid his gratitude as well just before a side door opened and a team of sharply dressed men and women entered, all carrying trays of delicious-looking food. (None that Victor could recognize, though.)

“Tonight our main course is _katsudon_. It’s a traditional dish of Yamato—simple but very good—and it happens to be our Yuuri’s favorite. I hope you enjoy it,” Queen Hiroko said. She was dressed in lavender and had various hair ornaments similar in design to her daughter’s, though more grand. She too had a soft expression and demeanor, like her husband. Victor glanced at Prince Yuuri who had ducked his head at the mention, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else. Even so, his blush was visible from where Victor was sitting from across the table. While the staff served them—placing beautifully decorated bowls of piping hot food in front of them—he noticed Princess Mari whisper something to her brother with a smirk. The prince blinked owlishly and pouted at her in response—an incredibly cute gesture.

“You’re staring,” Chris murmured, elbowing him gently under the table. But despite the warning, Victor stared for a moment too long. The prince flicked his eyes up and met Victor’s, before quickly casting his gaze down to his bowl. The blush on his face deepened and Victor couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The rest of the dinner passed by with little incident (and the food was absolutely delicious). It was a little awkward at first until the queen asked Victor and Chris of their adventures with FROST. They’d kept it appropriate for the occasion, which meant that they ran out of polite stories in about ten minutes. Thankfully, the princess and the king had their fair share of comments and questions as well—mostly small talk. Prince Yuuri hadn’t spoken the whole time. He hadn’t really looked anywhere but his food, honestly. And it wasn’t until the end of dinner—as they were all nearly through dessert, something known as _mochi_ —when the princess addressed the elephant in the room. Victor had been expecting it at some point; he was prepared for it, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“Your Excellency, we all know there’s no reason to worry,” she began, her voice steady. But Victor could recognize the undertone of a challenge when he heard one. “We’re all just a little reluctant to see my brother leave Yamato. It’s a great honor to serve our empire in any way we can, of course, but can I have your word that my brother will return from this _expedition_ unharmed?”

“Mari,” Prince Yuuri gasped, apparently caught unaware by this. He stared at her with unhidden shock, but her eyes were locked with Victor’s.

“You have my word,” Victor was able to promise without hesitation. Whatever the outcome of this whole mystery was, he wouldn’t allow an innocent civilian to be caught in the crossfire. Prince Yuuri’s gaze turned to him, then, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open a little. He seemed more perplexed, if anything, despite Victor meaning to ensure him and his family that he would be safe. But a beat later his neutral mask was back on, his expression revealing nothing more.

Nothing more was said on the matter. No doubt they would discuss it further in private, but certainly not in front of the Imperial Crown Prince. But that was understandable. People were always careful about what they said around him especially when it concerned politics of any sort. Or his father, naturally.

Once dinner was officially over, Victor and Chris were escorted back to their room by Yumiko. Victor had hoped for a chance to actually speak with Prince Yuuri, but he’d vanished from the hall at the first opportunity. Victor hadn’t even been able to catch a glimpse of him on the way back to their guest room.

Feeling oddly dejected, Victor flopped down on one the beds after abandoning his jacket and boots. He sunk into the plush mattress and luxurious duvet, his heart weighing him down. “Tell me what I did wrong,” he asked aloud to Chris, who tossed a pair of pajamas at him. He caught them, but felt too sluggish to change into them.

“Is it so hard for you when you’re not instantly liked by whomever you meet?” Chris asked with a chuckle as he stripped out of his uniform.

“Now that’s not fair,” Victor accused him, sitting up straight and sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “He hardly said a word all throughout dinner.”

“So he’s shy.”

“After what happened at the temple? No. I don’t think _shyness_ is the problem here.”

“So he just hates you.”

“Chris!”

Chris laughed again, having finished changing into the solid-colored pajamas. He’d chosen green for himself and had given Victor the blue. Chris sat at the edge of his bed, facing Victor across the divide where the sofa and chaise were. “I’ve never seen you so randomly hung up on something—or someone. Especially when you don’t know them.”

“It’s not that. I can understand why the prince is distrusting of me, I really can. After all, usually the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Victor said. He should have been long used to being judged for his father’s sins by now, and yet he still struggled to extricate himself from the man’s shadow. “But I feel like I’ve personally offended him somehow. I just want to be sure he knows he’s not in any danger—most likely. As long as he’s careful….”

“You really think he’ll be safe if worse comes to worst?”

“You’re talking about what’ll happen if we reach the endgame to all this.” Victor sighed again, standing so that he could quickly change into the comfortable pajamas for the night. As much as he’d grown used to wearing his uniform all the time, it still wasn’t terribly comfortable to sleep in.

“I know you don’t want to think about it, but….”

“My father isn’t completely evil. It’s not like he’ll kill the boy once he gets what he wants or something.” Victor sat facing Chris, pulling one leg up against his chest and letting the other swing idly from the edge of the bed. His father was a lot of things but not needlessly cruel. He wouldn’t go to such extremes. Even without that, doing away a foreign diplomat was not a great way to garner support. As the reigning monarch, support wasn't necessary but it _was_ useful. The Emperor knew that best of all.

“And you can guarantee that?”

Victor went still and stared at him. He felt a cold sensation down his spine because _no_ . He couldn't. He _couldn’t_ guarantee anything when it came to his father, in all honesty.

But he'd made Prince Yuuri and his family a promise.

“I won’t let anything like that happen.”

Chris studied him with calm eyes, his lips pressed together tightly. He let out a small hum as his face softened into what was almost a smile. “I know.”

It was a rare but precious thing to have unconditional support. Even if Chris had doubts, he never wavered in his loyalty. For this, Victor was grateful. He'd made it a point to surround himself with people who were loyal—who understood his cause and shared his ideals—but who also were unafraid to question his judgement if the need arose. He didn't want an army of yesmen and what he needed now more than ever were people, friends, he could rely on.

“This is going to become very complicated,” Victor warned him after he finished changing. He felt a little odd wearing these pajamas which didn’t belong to him (and were a little short on both of them) Chris had walked over to the control panel near his side of the room and switched off the lights. The moonlight streaming in through the open windows lit the place faintly, painting it in an almost dream-like quality.

“Sleep, Victor,” Chris said by way of answering. He got under the soft covers of his bed and Victor did the same. “This planet’s day-night cycle is close to standard, so it should be easy. When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?”

“I don’t remember.”

Because of the quietness of the room it was easy to hear the crash of waves against the cliffside, distant yet somehow so near. If Victor closed his eyes he could conjure up fond memories of an early childhood spent by the sea—so vivid that it caused his chest to ache for a life that could have been. As he let the sounds of the ocean lull him to sleep, memories and nostalgia were woven into tenebrous dreams.

 

* * *

 

Though he’d been awake for a while now, Yuuri still couldn’t muster up enough of an appetite to justify calling for breakfast. So instead he sat at the large bay window, his feet tucked under him, gazing out into familiar horizon one last time. His luggage was packed neatly and ready to be transferred already. Apart from a few more goodbyes, there was nothing left to do but wait. So he sat there upon the soft cushions, leaning against the window pane, and let the sunlight warm him.

Dinner last night had been the epitome of awkward, though he’d tried his best not to make a fool of himself. His tactic had been staunch silence and careful avoidance of eye contact. The latter had been especially difficult, given how effortlessly charming Prince Victor was. He was unmistakably handsome and everything about him—from the uniqueness of his eyes to the sound of his voice—was captivating. But it was hard to get a read on what type of person he was—whether or not he was genuine; if his charisma hid something more dangerous.

Or maybe Yuuri was just not very good at reading people.

He’d tried to get some more information by analyzing the aether around the man, but it hadn't revealed anything of note. It swirled around him and Yuuri could sense an unusually high level of attunement there (like his father), but it wasn't tumultuous. The same went for his companion, so Yuuri had given up the attempt shortly after he had started.

Mari had then tried to get the prince to assure Yuuri’s safety and had seemingly succeeded. But still, Yuuri didn’t know how to process that. Was the prince being honest or was it just to placate his family, knowing well that the Emperor had different plans? Prince Victor's eyes had been steady and clear when Yuuri looked at him, but there was no way he was going to trust the son of the Emperor so easily.

The moment he could, Yuuri had escaped the dining hall and ran to his room. He’d felt too many emotions for the night. Anger, confusion, _fear_ —to name a few. Combined with everything that had happened at the temple (his own machinations), he was exhausted. Feeling trapped and helpless, he finally allowed himself to sob into his pillow until he’d fallen asleep like that; only to awake in the morning still dressed in his uncomfortable fancy clothes and with dried tears staining his face.

And so, feeling numb, he had bathed and changed into fresh clothes knowing he wouldn’t be going back to sleep anyway. He was now ready and dressed—had been for hours—in a dark green robe with silver and gold embroidery and his silver circlet resting atop his head. The mask of Prince Yuuri was back after a short interlude, and it was something he could hide behind again.

Suddenly there was knock at the door and he called for whoever it was to enter. To his surprise, it wasn’t a servant, but _friends_. Yuuri got to his feet quickly when he saw Yuuko and Takeshi Nishigori in the doorway, their triplets bouncing with energy behind them.

“Calm down!” Yuuko scolded them as they entered the room. Before anyone could say anything else however, Yuuri was pulled into a hug by Takeshi as they all met near the center of the room.

“How are you holding up?” Takeshi asked him when they all pulled apart. Yuuri opened his mouth to answer but immediately the triplets latched onto his legs.

“We won't let you go!”

“You have to stay!”

“We'll fight those soldiers off for you!”

“Girls, we talked about this,” Yuuko pleaded, giving Yuuri an apologetic look. With the help of her husband, she pried their daughters off of Yuuri, but Yuuri couldn't help but chuckle at how serious they seemed in their resolve.

“Thank you, girls,” he said, sitting on the nearby ottoman so he could be more eye-level with them. “You're very brave to try and fight for me, but I’ll be just fine.”

“Promise?”

“When will you be back?”

“If they do anything to you, we’ll beat them up!”

“I promise, but I'm not sure when I’ll be back,” he told them. It could be many months or even longer. If at all. The girls were clearly not placated in the least, but they buried their faces in their parents’ clothes, perhaps to hide their tears.

“I know we all knew this day was coming but still, it sucks,” Takeshi said eloquently. He and Yuuko had been friends with Yuuri since they were children. Yuuko was the daughter of a noble with whom Yuuri’s family was closely associated, and she was still as pretty as ever. Takeshi was the burly son of the the head groundskeeper of the palace, and he had taken over long ago. All three of them had played together when they were younger and Yuuko and Takeshi had fallen in love along the way. Yuuri had the foresight to remove himself as a potential third wheel, ending up as a student under his mentor long before things became serious between Yuuko and Takeshi.

“It’s just how it is,” Yuuri said with a simple shrug. His visions proved as much and now he was nearing the end of those prophesied events. Even last night, they had been clear in their finality. It was far, far too late to change anything even if he wanted to now.

“Have you eaten anything?” Yuuko asked him. Yuuri shook his head and she frowned. “We’ll fix that.”

“I’m not really—” he started, knowing that with his nerves as they were, he wouldn’t be able to stomach much at all. Takeshi cut him off with a firm hand to his shoulder.

“Share a breakfast with your friends, _Your Grace_ ,” he said. “For old time’s sake, at least.”

Yuuri found that he couldn’t argue with that. Several minutes later and a servant brought up a large platter of food that all six of them shared. Takeshi took the time to criticize the empire and insult their design choices as far as the dreadnought (which was _still_ hanging hideously in the sky) went. Yuuko agreed that it was hideous but focused more on making sure Yuuri felt alright. But he wasn’t quite sure _how_ he was feeling, in all honesty, and he wasn’t too keen on exploring his emotions at the moment. For the time being, he was content in his relative detachment.

The triplets ended up fighting over the last biscuit that was left, and Yuuri somehow felt at ease watching their antics, and then their mutual displeasure when Takeshi forced them to split it. It was all familiar, all comforting.

But it couldn’t last forever.

About an hour later, he had bid his friends goodbye and joined his family in the grand atrium. The triplets had all kept a stiff upper lip on their way out and Yuuri figured if the kids could manage that, then he should be able to as well… right?

“Make sure to check in as much as possible,” his mother said, holding both his arms and looking at him with tears in her eyes. That was no good—if any one of them started crying, so would he.

“We want to know everything—every adventure you go on!” he father said, a hand on his shoulder. A smile was glued to his face, but Yuuri could see the strain at the edge of his eyes, aside from the crinkles.

“Of course,” Yuuri lied. If he were to go on any _adventures_ —and he knew his parents were choosing to look at it that way as a means of coping with this whole thing—then he would have to abide by military security standards regarding what he could and couldn't talk about. A toe out of line could mean being charged with espionage or treason, and if he was going to be stuck on the Emperor’s flagship itself, then he would rather not risk anything.

“Just don’t do anything stupid, okay? Don’t provoke anyone,” Mari warned him. She looked as tired as Yuuri felt and he had to wonder if any of his family members had slept properly last night.

“Of course I won’t, Mari,” he said, pulling away from his mother’s grasp and straightening out his clothes once more. Prince Victor and his soldiers would be arriving soon.

“You say that but I know you….” Mari trailed off, only shaking her head.

“Your Grace!” came a young, familiar voice. They turned to see Minami running through the atrium, his hair and robes equally disheveled. He stopped just short of where they were all standing, doubling over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“Minami, did you run all the way here?” Yuuri asked, stepping away from his family.

“Yes—I-I didn’t want to miss you leaving. I was afraid I was already late!” the boy admitted, straightening back up though still clearly winded.

“You’re just in time,” Yuuri said, sensing the approaching presence of Prince Victor and his men from the far hallway.

“Then please allow me to accompany you to the shuttle,” Minami pleaded, his hands curled tight into fists.

“Alright.” Yuuri only acquiesced so readily because he’d seen Minami’s presence in his dreams last night. Yuuri had been hoping for more interesting details from his visions, but he always just had to make do with what he got. There wasn't much left in the timeline, either.

Prince Victor and the troops joined Yuuri and his family (and Minami) in the center of the atrium. The man bowed his head respectfully before addressing Yuuri, “Good morning, Your Grace. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said simply. He just wanted to get this whole thing over with instead of dragging it out any longer. “The shuttle just arrived and they’ve already loaded my belongings.” It was just two small trunks of clothes and a few important knicknacks, nothing more. He wasn’t really sure what he was and wasn’t allowed to take, so he stuck to the basics.

“Then let’s get going,” said Major Giacometti, who stood next to Prince Victor. Yuuri had only gotten a good look at the man at dinner last night, but he seemed relatively harmless. He was handsome with green eyes and long eyelashes, but it would be overall unfair to compare him to Prince Victor. The Major had an air of aloofness about him that was somewhat mirrored in the prince. “Let’s not keep the Emperor waiting.”

Prince Victor and Major Giacometti exchanged glances before the two of them led the way out of the atrium and into the same courtyard they’d entered through last night. They walked shoulder to shoulder and Yuuri was shocked at the informality. It was unheard of for someone of the Major’s rank to be so casual with the _Imperial Crown Prince_ himself. But then again, Prince Victor was rather unusual and Yuuri could tell that much already.

Yuuri’s family followed as far as the entrance of the atrium and he looked back at them as he continued forward. He couldn’t stop because of the soldiers behind him, so he simply waved silently. There was a reason he didn’t want them to accompany him to the shuttle and it was because he knew it would make this whole thing harder on all of them. The moment his mother turned her face to cry into his father’s shoulder is when Yuuri snapped back around, willing himself to control his emotions. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, aware that Minami was watching him out of the corner of his eye. And not just Minami, but other servants who had quietly come to watch his departure from side doors or other pathways. None of them spoke, but all of them bowed low when he passed them.

He could be strong for his people.

As they passed the golden gates that led to the landing pad, Minami took a hold of his hand and clutched it tightly. The boy was trembling even more than Yuuri was and had tears in his eyes that threatened to overflow, but he too was putting on a brave face.

Arriving at the landing pad, they found all the attendants standing ready in front of the shuttle. Prince Victor and the Major boarded first of course and as Yuuri was about to, Minami tugged on his hand. Some of the other soldiers who had been walking behind them boarded instead.

“You’ll be back, right? Soon?” The boy’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. His lip quivered and his voice was unsteady, yet he was trying hard to keep it together for Yuuri’s sake. “If not, I’ll come find you myself.”

Yuuri was aware of the Crown Prince and the Major watching them, but he didn’t care. He reached up, tucking a lock of hair behind Minami’s ear. The boy had always been like a little brother to Yuuri—always trailing behind him, in awe of everything he did even if it wasn’t anything too spectacular. The lump in Yuuri’s throat only worsened but he managed to talk around it, his voice as steady as he could manage. “Behave yourself and don’t worry about me. Don’t neglect your studies. You have the talent to become the next High Priest if you want to, but you also have the freedom to be whatever you choose. Don’t think you have to follow in my footsteps or anything. Just do what makes you happy, Minami,” This was a private matter and he didn’t need any imperial overhearing, so he’d switched to their local dialect. It sounded soothing and natural on his tongue, but it would probably be the last time he used it for a while. The very thought made his heart ache, but if he kept getting caught up in small things like this….

“Ok, ok,” Minami stuttered out in their shared language, blinking back his tears. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be the first to welcome you back!”

“I’ll miss you too, Minami.” Yuuri squeezed the boy’s hands one last time—and did the same with his aether—before finally boarding the shuttle. Yuuri grabbed the handle and hauled himself up, feeling as heavy as ever, knowing that this was it. This was the _exact_ moment Yuuri’s vision ended; the moment both his feet were inside the shuttle was the moment that background feeling of déjà vu finally dissipated and he was well and truly on his own.

He turned around to see Minami and the attendants gathered together and he gave them a final nod. They all bowed low, their torsos almost parallel with the ground—as deep a sign of respect they could give. Yuuri swore he saw a few stray tears fall onto the gray pavement but didn’t look away until the door to the shuttle came down and cut off his view.

Yuuri sunk down into the nearest empty seat as the shuttle began take-off preparations, feeling too many things at once to be able to parse any of them. He curled his aether around him like a protective blanket, grateful that no one in the shuttle decided to speak, apart from the pilot in the front who plainly informed them that the estimated time of arrival to the _Helius_ was 4 standard minutes.

Yuuri determinedly looked nowhere else but his hands which were folded neatly in his lap. He knew if he looked elsewhere, he would risk making eye contact with someone or would become too emotional at the sight of his beloved homeworld falling away.

But in the end, he gave one—and only one—glance out of the window to see that beautiful cerulean sea of Hasetsu a final time. 

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

By the time they reached the docking bay of the _Helius_ , Yuuri had properly stowed away his emotions, replacing them all with neutrality. He allowed himself to be led by Prince Victor and Major Giacometti to what looked like a small briefing room in some part of the massive ship. At first, the proportions of the ship seemed off in the sense that it felt like it was built for giants, not normal-sized people. The ceilings were ridiculously high, the hallways too wide. It was unsettling and disorienting. But as they moved deeper into the bowels of the ship, away from the hangar that held literally _hundreds_ of ships, things began to narrow to relatively normal scale.

“The Emperor said he’ll send someone for you in a few minutes,” Prince Victor said, gesturing for him to sit at the large gray table in the middle of the room. Yuuri did so, perching himself at the edge of the nearest chair. “We’ll be leaving for the _Corona_ now, but I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

Yuuri didn’t know why the Crown Prince was telling him that, or why he was looking at him like he had something important to say. But a moment later, he shook his head as if to dismiss his own thoughts, and simply left. Major Giacometti threw Yuuri a strange, almost knowing smile before following his commanding officer out the door. Yuuri did not watch them leave.

He put the strangeness of it out of his mind in favor of examining his surroundings. The room was plain, with metal panelling, recessed lights above, and a black screen that covered the whole of one wall. The screen was shiny enough that he could see his own reflection even from such a distance. There were no windows and only the one door, and no other decorations at all for him to critique as he waited. All he could do was stew in his own thoughts.

It was strange, thinking that he was sitting there, floating in space, knowing that this huge vessel was now probably moving away from his homeworld and he couldn’t even tell. He’d never been on a ship of this magnitude, and he still didn’t even really know why he was here at all. Without the knowledge provided by his visions, Yuuri felt horrifically vulnerable, stuck in a hostile environment with no one on his side.

But true to Prince Victor’s word, a soldier appeared in the doorway a while later, dressed in an outfit far simpler than the Crown Prince or the Major had been wearing. The colors were the same—black and gold—but the plain style indicated that this woman was of a much lower rank. Yuuri didn’t know enough else about military rankings to ponder and further, so he just stood and made his way to the door.

“Welcome aboard the _Helius_ , Your Royal Highness. His Imperial Majesty has requested your presence,” she said. “Please follow me.”

The soldier didn’t say where exactly they were headed and Yuuri found it impressive that she seemed to know her way along the countless winding hallways they took to their destination. He didn’t even attempt to memorize their steps, knowing it was futile.

He was led to a large room with windows on one side, looking out into the blackness of space. In the center was a large, well-lit table with several datapads and other things cluttered atop it. The rest of the room was fairly dark. The Emperor stood on one end of the table, looking as imposing as ever. There were other personnel in the room too and Yuuri quickly recognized the trademark snowflake-shaped pin on the lapels of one of men. Another FROST soldier. He was tall, with dark blue eyes and an undercut. It seemed every FROST soldier Yuuri had come across was surprisingly young. He would have expected older, more experienced troops to qualify for a renowned special tactics group.

“Welcome, Prince Yuuri,” the Emperor greeted him. The woman who led Yuuri to the room stood off to the side next to another soldier who dressed in a uniform similar to her own. “I've called you here to speak to you about the codex fragment—that is, the tablet—in greater detail.”

“I see,” Yuuri said, drawing closer cautiously.

“First things first, of course. How is it you were able to interact with the tablet so… naturally?” the Emperor asked.

“You must be well aware by now that my aetherial attunement is, for lack of a better word, perfect.” Yuuri didn’t understand why he was being asked such questions now. The Emperor knew of all this before he ever set foot on Yamato. “It allows me to somehow interact with the tablet, but I’m not entirely sure how. It’s not something I can explain.”

“You wouldn’t be able to teach others how to do it?”

“It’s not something that can be taught. My guess is that it’s something you’re able to do once your attunement is high enough. And there’s not much point in it, anyway. It’s a fancy trick but that’s all there is to it. After all, it’s just an old, fancy rock.” It was so much more complicated but Yuuri was not going to tell the Emperor that. He tried to keep his tone light and naïve as possible, but the man looked unconvinced.

Yuuri was not a good liar.

“I think you’re holding back quite a bit, Prince Yuuri,” the Emperor said slowly. Yuuri could sense the tension in the air. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything at all about the fragment?”

“I do not.”

“I don’t think you’re being entirely honest with me.” Yuuri’s blood ran cold at the Emperor’s tone. He was on this ship for no more than an hour and already he was being accused of something.

This is exactly what he feared would happen.

He was utterly trapped in this room, the Emperor looking down at him with clear contempt and the edge in his voice threatening something dark.

There was a small spark of fear that suddenly ignited unbridled rage inside of Yuuri. “I’ve told you what I know,” he grit out. “Now I want to know what it is you intend to do.”

It was probably illegal to speak to the Emperor that way, or at least extremely inadvisable. He felt the FROST soldier to his left stiffen at his words, saw the Emperor raise an eyebrow. But no one moved for several beats until the Emperor let out a low, amused hum.

“I’m sure you can guess, Prince Yuuri. All our experts believe the fragment is one of many that, when combined, will lead to some sort of weapon or machine that we may utilize. There are sectors of the galaxy which the empire has yet to annex, and this could prove useful in such efforts.” It was nothing Yuuri hadn’t already known. It was obvious; stupid, even, to consider that the Emperor had any plans _other_ than this. Even Yuuko’s triplets would be able to deduce as much. There was no need to question why Yuuri was here. He was no more than a tool for the Emperor to use to get what he wanted.

“Clearly whatever the codex leads to must be of great importance or power. The codex was fragmented for a reason, after all,” the Emperor mused. Each word out of the man’s mouth made Yuuri unreasonably, progressively angrier. He was almost shaking with his rage by the time the Emperor finished his sentence.

It was the same conclusion Yuuri had reached with his sister. Without thinking he blurted out his answer, only aware of the aether around him churning discordantly with his ire, “To keep it out of the hands of warmongers like you.”

There was a sudden chill in the room. It seeped into his anger, smothering the flames and replacing all his fury with icy dread. Yuuri knew he crossed the line. He’d pushed just one step too far, and he knew he was about to pay the price. But he wasn’t able to predict how instant those consequences would be.

One moment Yuuri was standing, glaring at the Emperor, and then the next thing he knew, he was making hard contact with the metal flooring beneath him.

In the last second, he was able to at least brace his fall, but found his face just centimeters from the floor. His circlet flew off, clattering across the room until it landed at the Emperor’s feet. Yuuri made no move to retrieve it. He made no move at all—trying to understand what had just happened.

There was a strange void around him, an empty space that lasted a disturbing few seconds before it was replaced with his aether curling around him protectively. But that void was telling enough for Yuuri to grasp the situation.

But no—that was impossible. That couldn’t be true, could it?

The Emperor—it had to be him, given by the calm, condescending way the man looked down at Yuuri while none of the other soldiers moved, uneasy at the sudden scene—had somehow used his own aether to force Yuuri to the ground in an instant. But _that couldn’t be possible._ Under any normal conditions, Yuuri would have sensed it a split second before it happened and would have been able to counter it. His aether would have automatically reacted against it. His level of attunement gave him a moment of clairvoyance whenever anyone or anything near him made a move against him, like a warning. But that defense mechanism had failed this time, despite being something that, by its very nature, could not fail—had never failed before. And so, Yuuri was left dazed and in shock, lying on the ground pathetically.

“I have been gracious thus far, but I only have so much patience, Yuuri Katsuki of Yamato.” That in itself was an insult, as backhanded as it was, to not use Yuuri’s title but simply his name as though he were a common citizen. The Emperor was making it clear now just how beneath him Yuuri was. “But perhaps you simply need time to _reflect_ on your actions and how you may best serve your empire.”

He pushed back against the invisible force holding him down, his aether struggling against the interference until it found a foothold and finally neutralized the force, causing it to dissipate. The conclusion Yuuri drew was that the Emperor's attunement was dangerously high, just in the range to be problematic to Yuuri’s own.

But before Yuuri could pick himself up, the Emperor addressed one of his men saying “Take him below.”

Below? Below where?

And then just as suddenly as Yuuri had been forced down, he was now being forced up by a strong hand lifting him by his arm. Yuuri used his aether to help himself up, and to shove the soldier away. But the soldier—the one from FROST—only gave him a look before grabbing his arm again. “Don’t make a scene,” the man whispered, leading (rather, dragging) Yuuri out of the room. But wasn’t it a little late for that advice?

As they were leaving the room, the Emperor spoke once more to Yuuri, but without bothering to look at him. “I will not take any future transgressions lightly, _Yuuri Katsuki_ , despite your status or usefulness.” Yuuri almost stopped, but the soldier tugging on his arm kept pulling him forward and out of the room once and for all.

Once Yuuri got over his shock he wrested out of the man’s grasp again and planted his feet firmly in place. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

The FROST operative looked at him for a moment with an unreadable expression before a answering in a loud, chipper voice that caught Yuuri completely off-guard. “I’m Lieutenant Jean-Jacques Leroy, Your Grace. You can just call me JJ though—much more stylish, don’t you think? I’m the commanding officer aboard the _Aurora_ , and we’re stationed here as a part of a liaison between FROST and the main imperial fleet.”

“I see….” That was more information than Yuuri had asked for.

“And unfortunately for you, you’ll have to follow me down below.” JJ started walked again, gesturing for Yuuri to follow him. Yuuri had enough of causing scenes for the day and decided that alright, fine, better to follow this soldier than try to resist any more.

Yuuri wanted to kick himself for speaking out of turn in the first place, feeling the embarrassment finally catching up to him. His cheeks burned and his hands curled tightly in his robes. Why didn’t he just kept his damn mouth shut? He could almost _hear_ his sister’s warning come back to him and he was ashamed how little time it took for him to disregard it and make a fool of himself. He could guess what _below_ entailed, and it sure wasn’t going to be a luxury suite.

For all his meditations and discipline, Yuuri was still prone to getting too emotional over things, to act without thinking sometimes. It was something he never learned how to control, and his mentor had always warned him about it. But it hadn’t prevented him from attaining perfect attunement so he had never given it too much thought. And now, here he was.

“Forgive me for saying so, Your Grace, but _damn_ ,” JJ said after a while. They had more-or-less retraced the path Yuuri and the other soldier had taken, but with a few different turns from what Yuuri could recognize. “I can’t tell if that was really brave or really stupid.”

Yuuri’s ears burned, but he wasn’t able to say anything against that. A small voice inside his head, however, agreed with the latter sentiment.

“Not even 5 minutes in front of the Emperor and you manage to get yourself in trouble.”

“I’m glad you’re very amused by this, Lieutenant,” Yuuri snapped. But JJ only laughed a little and shrugged.

“Amused is one word, but impressed is another,” the man said. “You’ll make a good ally, I think.”

“What?” Yuuri was now even more confused than he was before. He had the distinct impression that he’d just gotten tangled up in something a lot more complicated than he realized at the moment.

JJ only threw him a wink and continued on until they reached an elevator. There, another FROST soldier with an undercut joined them. His skin was slightly tan, his eyes dark, and his face set in a far more serious expression. “I heard what happened,” he said simply.

“That was fast,” JJ mused as the three of them entered the elevator. “But we’ll have to tell the Commander. He can fix this, probably.”

“Certainly. I’ll send a report from the _Aurora,_ ” the other man said as the elevator descended. From the panel Yuuri saw that the dreadnought had a total of 17 floors, and they were currently on the 12th. JJ pressed the button for the 3rd floor and so they went.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” JJ said to him with that same irritatingly amused tone. “I think you might just be our ace.”

“Ace…?” Yuuri repeated. “For what?”

But just as he asked, the elevator doors slid open and they stepped out into a large open area that connected to several identical-looking hallways. JJ and the other soldier led him down the one in the middle (and how they knew where to go with no signs or anything was still a complete mystery to Yuuri).

“This is the way to the brig, I’m afraid,” JJ said, confirming Yuuri’s suspicions. “It’s not so bad and you just need to hang tight for a little while.”

“The Commander likely already has a plan to get you out,” the other soldier assured him.

“You mean, Prince Victor?” Yuuri asked, though it was the most obvious of the dozens of questions he had to ask.

“That’s him. But yikes, he hates being called that. By the way, don’t you think Prince JJ sounds better? Or maybe _King_ JJ—yeah, that has a great ring to it—”

“Anyway,” the other soldier cut in, thankfully, “Please do not do anything else to endanger yourself.”

“Wait, hold on—I’m confused. You’re trying to help me?” Yuuri asked, stopping in place. FROST troops were still technically part of the Imperial Navy, but it seemed like these men were plotting against the Emperor and colluding with the Crown Prince to do so—and that just didn’t make any sense.

“Haven’t we made that obvious already?” JJ asked with a chuckle. He and the other soldier stopped too, all of them standing in the middle of this seemingly empty and too-bright hallway. But before Yuuri could ask any more questions, two women appeared from around the corner from the other end of the hallway. JJ clicked his tongue upon seeing them, his whole demeanor changing. “Looks like this is as far as we go, Your Grace. Otabek, send the report immediately.”

“It shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” the other soldier—named Otabek, apparently—assured Yuuri once again.

“We’ll take him from here,” said one of the new soldiers. She had a stern expression almost identical to her companion, her hair pulled tightly into a bun. Both of them had blaster rifles clearly holstered to their belts.

“Of course,” JJ acquiesced. He nodded to Yuuri, who then followed them obediently down the rest of the hallway.

They went down the turn these soldiers had come from and it opened up into a larger area with a series of small rooms—cells. Each had transparent doors with only the basics amenities inside and nothing more. They were dimly lit compared to the hallway they just entered through, and Yuuri was more-or-less shoved into the nearest one.

“The Emperor informed us that you are to be held here until further notice,” said one of the woman before they both left, closing the cell door. Yuuri didn’t know or care which one had spoken because he stopped paying attention.

The full weight of what had just happened came crashing down on him as he shakily sat down on the hard, uncomfortable bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he leaned against the wall, trying to keep his breathing even and that feeling of impending doom at bay.

Within an hour of being aboard this accursed ship he’d gotten himself arrested. It was humiliating and pathetic and he had absolutely no one to blame but himself for his current predicament. And now it seemed it was up to the Crown Prince to get him out of this mess, but for what purpose? Why were those FROST soldiers so cryptic as they seemingly plotted treason aboard the Emperor’s own ship?

Nothing made sense. Not the codex fragment, not the Emperor’s power, not the FROST soldiers, not the Crown Prince, and least of all: Yuuri’s role in all of this.

And not for the first time did Yuuri feel like he was being used for something he didn’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is largely the result of me recently watching Rogue One (and The Last Jedi hype?!?!) plus my frustration at not being able to play Mass Effect: Andromeda (yet). I thought to myself: hey why not make a massive Victuuri space opera??? And so here we are. In other words, this is me geeking out and paying homage to all my favorite series.
> 
> (I'm sorry for the lack of lightsabers.)
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed reading this first chapter, though it certainly was longer than I originally intended! I know nothing too exciting happened here because of all the set-up, but now we can get into the real adventure!
> 
> I cannot express how much kudos, comments, bookmarks, recommendations, etc mean to me! They keep me going like nothing else!
> 
> I want to know what you guys thought about this! If you have any ideas/things you'd like to really see in this fic OR if you have any questions, please visit me on **[Tumblr](https://nyerus.tumblr.com)** or **[Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nyerus10)** (or leave a comment here) and let me know! You can even pop in just to pester me about future events/spoilers/updates. I love interacting with you guys!  <3
> 
> \----------
> 
> A few details:  
> • I didn't feel entirely comfortable calling the clothing Yuuri and co. wear on Yamato as kimonos/yukatas/etc because they're only based on those and are actually different (due to "galaxization"). Hence why I just used the word "robes" instead!  
> • "Vid" is the shortened form of "video." I imagine over centuries some words like that would get shortened down naturally… because language.  
> • A "cycle" is a standardized unit of measuring what is essentially a day. It's useful for places that don't have distinct a day/night or sunrise/sunset like space stations or starships. The terms "months, years, etc" are still used on a local level, but of course vary from planet-to-planet.  
> • The Galaxy is divided thusly: Sector --> Cluster --> System --> Planet (E.g. Vesper Sector --> Yamati Cluster --> Taiyo System --> Yamato)
> 
> **Next up: Some negotiation, some diplomacy, and some good-ol' exploration of ancient ruins. Plus the added bonus of some growing attraction between our two leads!**
> 
> (Though it might take me a while to get it out because of exams!!! In the meantime, come chat with me!)


	2. New Diplomacy, Old Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: a huge thank you to all those who've supported me through this (especially SVDD ♡), and to everyone who has been reading and leaving comments! I'm surprised at the attention this fic has gathered and I hope you'll all enjoy what I have planned! I know it's been a long wait for this chapter, but I'll be trying my best to get the next chapters out as quickly as possible, so please bear with me!
> 
> (Quick note: Yuuri does not wear glasses in this fic. In a galaxy where genetic modifications are a thing, there's no myopia for him to worry about!)

****The bridge of the _Corona_ was one of Victor’s favorite places on the ship, and for obvious reasons. Near the bow of the cruiser, it was an open and well-lit area that handled the most important operations of the entire FROST fleet. Sleek in design, various workstations were arranged towards the perimeter while the middle held the command center, with seating for officers arranged around a holographic galaxy map. Large matching star charts glittered on either of the bridge, showing information such as current location, destination, and coordinates of other nearby ships. However, the holographic galaxy map in the center was where things such as destination and trajectory were actually decided. While in combat, it could be substituted for another detailed star chart underneath, but for now the three-dimensional map was up.

Victor looked over the beautiful swirling, purple-blue disc, losing himself in the nebulous projection of their galaxy. It had been an odd two cycles, and something still didn’t sit right with him. Leaving Prince Yuuri on that dreadnought alone was not something he intended to do, but he couldn’t decide if he should act now or if it would be easier to wait until he had more to negotiate with regarding the terms of the prince’s transfer. The last thing he needed was to raise any suspicion. The situation was already hanging in a precariously delicate balance between him and his father, and upsetting that could mean thousands—or even millions—of lives in danger. That was not something he could afford.

“Commander, we just received a transmission from the _Aurora_.” Phichit walked up to him, datapad in hand. Usually chipper and upbeat, Phichit looked slightly perturbed. No one else seemed to notice, however, as the others on the bridge were either engaged in their own tasks or were talking quietly with each other. “Apparently it’s urgent.”

“What is it?” Victor asked, skimming the contents of transmission displayed on the datapad.

“An account from Otabek saying that Prince Yuuri of Yamato has been detained,” Phichit said in a rush. But then he paused awkwardly, slowing as he continued like he didn’t quite know how to break the news. “For apparently refusing to cooperate and also for… calling the Emperor a warmonger.”

Victor looked up to see that Phichit appeared as bewildered as he sounded. Otabek’s report also made mention of how the Emperor forced Prince Yuuri to the ground via aetherial pressure, and that was all sorts of alarming. If his father was being so quick to show off, it could only mean the worst. Victor looked back at the datapad, sharing Phichit's bewilderment as he ran his eyes over the text once more just to make sure he was reading it correctly.

“Well.” It was all Victor could manage at the moment, his mind going blank for a second before the gears started turning again.

Victor's choice of when to retrieve Prince Yuuri had just been made for him, and now they had to act fast in case things somehow escalated. Though if the young prince was bold enough to call the Emperor a warmonger to his face then surely he was capable of doing plenty more. And before that happened, Victor had to get him off that damn ship. The Emperor was not known for either his patience or for being particularly forgiving, and that little display of power he’d given the poor prince was only a taste of what he could do to those who got in his way.

Victor handed the datapad back to Phichit who speedily returned to his post as Victor stepped towards the galaxy map. Without hesitation, he selected their destination as the _Helius_ and heard the murmurs break out across the bridge immediately.

“Commander? Back to the _Helius_?” Georgi asked from his position near the very front of the bridge, the pilot’s seat. “We just left.”

“Unexpected change of plans,” Victor said simply, sitting down in his chair as the lights on the bridge dimmed. The alert for a new destination was broadcasted across the ship, and various crew members scrambled to their positions in response.

The door to the bridge hissed open as the main engines were shifted out of standby—the telltale hum clearly audible—and in walked an incredulous Chris. He only gave Victor a cursory glance before sitting down in his chair beside him.

“Phichit just forwarded me the report,” he sighed, crossing his arms across his chest as he settled in. “I almost don’t believe it.”

“Almost?”

“You and I both knew the prince wasn’t going to comply so easily—but I did _not_ expect him to stir up trouble within the hour.”

“I’m honestly a little impressed,” Victor admitted. The _Corona_ was now off towards the direction of the _Helius_ once again.

“Oh, he’ll fit right in,” Chris said with a chuckle, and Victor could only agree. “If he’s still in one piece by the time we get there.”

It took only a few minutes to arrive back at the _Helius_ . They hadn’t left the sector yet and neither had the dreadnought, luckily enough. A few questions were asked on the terms of their sudden return by a surprised _Helius_ command, but one perk of Victor being the crown prince was that no one would stop his re-approach towards his father’s ship.

“Phichit, let them know I’m coming aboard to speak with the Emperor,” Victor said, straightening out his jacket and making sure his pins were properly angled. He was glad he’d at least gotten the chance to change his uniform in the meantime, though it looked the exact same sans a few wrinkles.

“Just you, Commander?” Phichit asked, swiveling around his seat. Chris gave Victor a questioning look, but didn’t say anything.

“Just me,” Victor confirmed as they swiftly docked. Phichit nodded and turned back towards the console, speaking softly into his earpiece to let _Helius_ command know. “I’ll handle it.”

“Good luck,” Chris bid him, though he looked skeptical of Victor’s decision. If he were being honest, Victor only wanted to go alone just in case there would a spectacle between him and his father. He doubted it this time—he could cite perfectly valid reasons for wanting things his way, after all—but better safe than sorry.

“The ship is yours, Chris.” Victor relinquished command to his first officer as he made his way from the bridge to the airlock, on the deck below. The ship’s AI broadcasted his departure as he walked through the thick metal doors on the other side of the airlock and onto the _Helius_.

Two guards at the end of the dock recognized him and snapped to attention as he passed by, followed by a long line of others following suit as he strolled past them on his way towards his father's office. The dreadnaught was huge, of course, but he'd spent enough time on it when he was younger that its extensive blueprint was essentially burned into his mind.

The 14th floor was his destination. Without wasting a moment’s time Victor made his way there, stride steady enough that no one dared stopped him. He went up the elevator alone, with two soldiers who were originally headed upwards as well scrambling out once they saw their Prince. It would have been no secret at as to all why Victor would be back on the _Helius_. A short ride later and Victor exited onto the 14th floor before heading through a maze of metal corridors which were narrower than they ought to be on a ship of that size. It added to the claustrophobia Victor always felt there; oppressive and suffocating in a way he couldn’t describe. And there was no one else in that entire segment of the ship save for his father, he knew for a fact. It made that feeling of claustrophobia somehow worse.

Eventually the maze of hallways ended by way of a single corridor leading to a large rectangular room at the end. The door was embellished with the imperial insignia, the golden crown glittering in the harsh white lighting of the corridor while the red diamond behind looked like a swathe of blood.

There was a small panel next to the door which Victor tapped. A prompt on the screen silently instructed him to state his business for the Emperor to consider. No one (not even Victor) had clearance to walk right into that room without permission from within, what with the walls reinforced with titanium alloy and an protective aether field running through it. If you pressed your ear to the wall, you would be able to hear the low hum of aether—almost like a faint tinkling—and feel the minute vibrations on your fingertips.

Victor cleared his throat and spoke clearly into the panel in front of him. “Father? It’s Victor. I hope _Helius_ command told you I was coming, but in any case, I have something important to discuss with you. It’s regarding another codex fragment.”

As soon as Victor finished his sentence—containing the magic word and all—the large steel doors hissed open. He went inside without further prompting to find the Emperor hunched over a table with a miniature galaxy map. It was only a fraction of the size as the one on the bridge of the _Corona_ (or the one on the bridge of the _Helius_ itself, the only other ship in the entire imperial fleet to have one), but was not meant for navigation anyway.

“Another fragment?” The Emperor asked without looking up, clearly mulling over something in the galaxy map though Victor couldn’t guess what even as he drew nearer. Dimly lit, the rest of the room was exactly as Victor last saw it. The same heavy desk in front of the large window on the far wall, the same arrangement of dark furniture around a small table in the center, and the same eclectic art pieces scattered about the room (painting and sculptures alike) that probably held no meaning at all apart from how rare they were.

“Yes,” Victor said, taking the liberty to sit in the nearby chair, feigning easy comfort. It was upholstered by the finest leather, of course, luxurious even in the uneasy atmosphere that had already begun to settle around them and creep under Victor’s skin.

His father looked up, a neutral expression on his face. He slowly rounded the table with the galaxy map and sat in the chair opposite Victor. “The _Aurora_ has confirmed the presence of a fragment on a planet in the outer rim. Negotiations over it are—well, about as you’d expect,” Victor explained.

“They're being unagreeable? I’m not surprised,” the Emperor said. But he stroked his chin once before raising an eyebrow at Victor. “Though I am surprised that you would return to the _Helius_ just to tell me this.” A small smile broke across the man’s face. “Surely you’re here for reasons other than just complaining about that, Victor.”

“Of course.”

Victor didn’t expect it but the man chuckled, then; a low, almost nostalgic sound. “Though I miss it—not so long ago you used to storm board the ship frequently to demand something or another. And then the last thing you demanded was a fleet of your own.” It was strange to hear the Emperor sound so fond. He was apparently in a good mood for whatever reason, despite what happened just hours prior.

“I didn't _demand_ that. We agreed—and the council did too—that FROST would be an invaluable asset to the Navy.”

“True, true,” the Emperor conceded, followed by a low hum as his rather jovial mood was replaced by a more serious one once again. “Regardless, sometimes I miss those days when you were a part of my own fleet. But still—I’m proud of you, son.”

The words were like icy claws sinking into his heart. It took everything Victor had not to give anything away, to keep that mask of his on perfectly. He was well aware that it was weaker than he would have liked it to be. “Thank you, father.”

It was difficult to wage war against someone you still loved.

“In any case, you came here for a reason, yes?” Victor was relieved to return to business. More-or-less.

“It’s like I said. Negotiations have stalled on Myren, but we may have a solution to that already,” Victor said. He paused a moment before continuing. Better cut right to the chase so he could be on his way faster. “Their Keeper may be more willing to listen to reason if it came from someone not affiliated with the Rossiyan Navy. Someone like Prince Yuuri.”

The Emperor’s face tightened, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his brows furrowing. It was an expression somewhere between frustration and anger, from what Victor could recognize, and it did not bode well. He was half expecting his father to recount his version of what had happened between himself and the prince—maybe paint to himself as the patient monarch extending a proverbial olive branch and the prince as a bellicose rebel—but it seemed that this time around his father didn’t see the value in defending or explaining his actions to Victor. Either he thought it wasn’t worth mentioning or assumed that Victor didn’t care.

“Is that the only option?” he asked, shoulders rigid.

“No, but of course it's the most efficient way of getting things done, as I see it.” Gentle negotiation was always preferable to brute force. Combined, the various civilizations of the galaxy had harnessed the power of the stars themselves, and yet talking to each other was apparently too difficult.

“Hm.” The Emperor rose from his seat and returned to the miniature galaxy map, resuming the exact same position he’d been in when Victor first walked in. Hunched over, finger tapping against his chin. “Prince Yuuri is too much of a wildcard to be trusted.”

“I gathered as much,” Victor said. “But I don’t need to trust him to use him.”

“A fair point.” The Emperor let out a low hum. “Maybe it’s fortuitous timing.”

“What do you mean?”

“You mother just informed me that there’s been small skirmishes in the Terminus sector with Garzan anarchists,” the Emperor said. Victor had already heard the news but still put on a face of mild concern for show. It wasn’t too hard to pretend though, as he’d been surprised when he’d first heard it from his mother. Garzans were on very good terms with the Empire and while there were always a number of dissenters all across the galaxy, these anarchists were alarmingly organized. As much as he could sympathize with them, however, he knew he could do very little in the matter now that his father had gotten wind of it. He also knew his mother would have had no choice but to tell the Emperor, or it would risk seeming as though she hid information. Still, Victor took comfort in the fact that she was already doing damage control to minimize the possible casualties once the bulk of the imperial navy (the Emperor and his fleet included) mobilized against them.

Victor was thankful that at least his mother was on his side, because he wasn’t sure he could bear to stand against her. It was a strange thing, to have your family so horrifically split and trying to pretend it wasn’t. And yet, looking back, maybe it was inevitable. But Victor didn’t have time to reflect on that at the moment.

“So I see,” Victor said simply. “There _have_ been reports of dissent from the fringes, recently. A few crossed my desk these last couple of cycles alone.”

“It’s probably nothing of great note, but since the fleet is heading back towards the capital for resupply and maintenance anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to secure the area first,” the Emperor said. Victor was used to his politespeak enough to know that there would be plenty of bloodshed anyway. Hopefully the Empress would able to head off the worst of it, though she had already told Victor not to concern himself with the matter. That was easier said than done, as usual. Yet again, he had to remind himself that he had other things to worry about.

“That’s the opposite direction from Myren,” Victor pointed out.

“Yes.” The Emperor moved from his spot and towards the desk, his back to Victor. “Send me what you have on your way to collect Prince Yuuri. Keep me informed.”

“Of course father.” Victor was surprised at the sudden relinquishment, but also knew better than to question it. He intended to take full advantage of his father’s goodwill while he could.

“Keep an eye on that one, Victor,” the Emperor warned him as he made to leave. “He knows more than he’s willing to share.”

That, Victor already knew. But he had no intention of terrorizing the prince for information like his father probably assumed he would. In this case, though, it was probably better that his reputation preceded him so as far as his father was concerned. However it would almost certainly work against him when it came to Prince Yuuri.

“I’ll be careful,” Victor assured him. As he stood, his eye caught a glint from something atop the large desk to his right. He turned to see a silver circlet, gleaming even in low lighting. “The Prince’s?” he asked, gesturing towards it with feigned nonchalance.

“Ah, yes. It fell during a small altercation—surely you’ve heard. Feel free to do with it as you wish. Perhaps it will incentivise him to cooperate with you,” the Emperor murmured, disinterested, his attention already back on his miniature galaxy map.

“That’s an idea.” A terrible one. Withholding something of great value from Prince Yuuri may work, but the end result would no doubt be complete and utter resentment. That was something Victor wanted to avoid. He wasn't overly worried about the prince's opinion of him—though he'd prefer that it stay at least somewhat favorable—but if he was being truthful to himself, he just didn't want to do things the way his father would. Wanting to do things the right way was often foolish, often dangerous, often set him at a needless disadvantage... but he refused to turn as cold and callous as his father. It was a weakness, and he knew that.

Victor plucked the circlet from the desk, slipped it in his pocket, and gave his father one last nod before walking out of the room without another word. He wasn’t able to relax until the doors hissed shut behind him. After rolling his shoulders and taking a breath to release the tension, he set off back towards the elevator.

Victor forced himself to relax a little on the way down to the brig, reminding himself that this was a win. He’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted and his father was none the wiser—but why did it feel so _wrong_? Why did he feel that dreadful twisting in his gut as he recalled his father’s words to him? He was no longer a child. That man’s words should have no effect on him any longer.

Letting the bright white lights and bare walls of the hallway wipe clean his thoughts, he made his way to the holding area. For now he could ignore everything and just focus at the task at hand—and oh did he have his work cut out for him.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was surprised to see one of the guards at his cell door only a few hours later. Truthfully he’d lost track of time already, slipping quickly into basic meditations to avoid falling into a panic.

“You’re being transferred,” was all the lady had to say to him, her voice completely flat yet her face giving away just a twinge of annoyance. Yuuri cautiously rose off the uncomfortable bed and followed her out of the cell, past the other stern-faced soldier and into the too-bright hallway. She said nothing else as they walked down a different corridor than before, and when they reached a small room near the end, she only gestured towards it.

Yuuri stepped inside the room and was keenly aware of the door behind him sliding shut, as he recognized the man leaning against the table in the center. There was no other furniture in there apart from a chair on either side of the table, and the walls were completely bare. He could recognize an interrogation room when he saw one, and he felt his pulse rise as his mouth went dry at the realization.

“Prince Yuuri,” said the Crown Prince in a friendly tone that instantly set Yuuri on edge. The man looked casual even dressed in that impeccable uniform—all straight lines and sharp angles. He was just as handsome as Yuuri remembered, even in this unflattering fluorescent lighting. But Yuuri knew better than to let his guard down.

“Hello, Your Excellency.” Prince Victor’s eyes were so different those of his father—bluer somehow, almost electric. The aether around him, too, was so different in a way that was impossible to describe. Yuuri felt trapped under his piercing gaze, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything dumb like _what brings you here_.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, it seemed.

“I received a report earlier from one of my officers,” the Crown Prince began slowly, “that you were detained after....”

“Making a scene?” Yuuri offered when Prince Victor paused once again.

“Well that’s one way of putting it,” he said with a light chuckle that did nothing to set Yuuri at ease. But the prince seemed to notice Yuuri’s discomfort—clear in the way Yuuri held himself, tall and proud but tense in every muscle—and his expression softened. It caught Yuuri off guard, strangely enough. The way Prince Victor looked at him seemed to suggest that the man almost felt _guilty_. “I’m sorry all of that happened to you.”

Yuuri froze at the sudden apology. It was the last thing he’d expected to hear and honestly he didn’t know how to react. “What?”

The crown prince let out a deep breath as he crossed his arms across his chest. “I think it’s better if I’m upfront with you from the beginning, don’t you?” But he didn’t wait for Yuuri’s answer before he continued. “I’m afraid you’ve been dragged into something that’s going to get a lot messier than you may realize, Prince Yuuri.”

“I don’t understand,” Yuuri said, holding the man’s steady gaze, but relaxing slightly. Ever since Yuuri had begun to have his visions of this day (and oh, only a few hours passed since he’d left Yamato, he suddenly remembered), he knew that it was just a small part of something bigger. A beginning to something he was too afraid to think about. But now it seemed that he could no longer afford to be ignorant.

“You will, soon enough,” Victor said, too cryptic for Yuuri’s liking though he wasn’t in a position to push for more answers at the moment. “You can’t stay on this ship, though. I can’t say much else here.”

 _Ah_.

Yuuri quickly thought back to how those other FROST soldiers from earlier seemed to hold no real loyalty towards the Empire apart from their prince. Their prince, who was currently planning to get Yuuri off this godforsaken ship as they had promised he would. It was difficult for Yuuri to decide what aspect of it all he ought be more shocked about. The fact that Prince Victor had actually come to _rescue_ him—as much as he loathed to think of it that way—or that there was apparently some sort of dissent between FROST and the Imperial Navy. Which indirectly meant dissent between the Crown Prince and the Emperor.

Clearly Prince Victor was not in the position to talk freely aboard this vessel, speaking in the same vague way his officers had done (though they seemed to be less careful about it and a lot more open about their clear distaste).

“Very well,” Yuuri said with a nod to show he understood and would, for the time being, cooperate. “So then what do you plan to do?”

“I’ve spoken to the Emperor and negotiated your release,” Prince Victor said simply.

“What? Already?” Even being the Emperor’s son surely he couldn’t have pulled it off so fast, so easily. Just talking to the man had been enough? “Negotiation?”

“Don’t worry,” the Crown Prince said in a light voice. His posture was relaxed, almost carefree. “I’ve taken care of it—you have nothing to worry about. You’ve already _been released_. I asked the guard to bring you here so I may escort you to my ship. I think you’ll find it a much more pleasant place to stay than the brig.”

“I see,” Yuuri said though he did not, in fact, see why any of this was happening. “What do you have to gain by this?”

A look of surprise crossed the prince’s face, his eyes going wide and his mouth falling open just a bit. He regained his composure quickly and chuckled, “You’re very pragmatic, Your Highness.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No, it isn’t.” Prince Victor gave him a quick smirk before shifting his weight so that he was no long leaning on the table. He reached behind to grab something that had been out of Yuuri’s view: a silver circlet. He set it on his palm before stretching his arm out towards Yuuri. “But for now let’s move on. This belongs to you, and I wanted to make sure it got back to you safely.”

Yuuri stared at the circlet for a long moment. He had honestly thought it to be gone forever, perhaps crushed under the boot of that tyrant once Yuuri had been taken away. Delicate and handmade, it would be easy to destroy. The last thing he expected was the Crown Prince to be gently returning the circlet with not even a scratch on it. If the man had attempted to delay any further questions Yuuri had for the time being, he succeeded.

“Thank you,” Yuuri breathed, reaching out his hand and surprised when he found his fingers trembling slightly. Was he really getting emotional over something like this? If Prince Victor noticed, he said nothing as Yuuri took the circlet and placed it back atop his head where it belonged. “I didn’t think I would see it again.”

“You’re welcome,” Prince Victor said before moving towards the door. As it slid open he gestured towards the hallway. “Now, we should be going. The sooner we get to the _Corona_ , the better.”

“Lead the way.”

Unsurprisingly, the Crown Prince moved quickly, his strides long and confident. Yuuri had to make sure to keep pace, following him closely once they left the brig for one of the many hangars. It was far different than the one Yuuri had seen when they’d come up to the _Helius_ via the shuttle. That one had been a wide area with small vessels, probably frigates, sitting in the open. This hangar was smaller, consisting of an open area connected to various docks like a hub. It was filled mainly with technicians running maintenance via arrays of panels and a handful of soldiers stationed at the entrance of occupied docks.

“I’ve had your things transferred already, so no need to worry,” Prince Victor told him as they neared the entrance of dock 116.

“That was fast. All of this, I mean,” Yuuri murmured. The two soldiers on either side of the entrance saluted Prince Victor and then one of them pressed a few buttons on a nearby panel. The large circular door spiraled open and Yuuri was surprised when he was allowed to pass through without anyone saying a word to him. Neither of the soldiers so much as looked at him.

“Word of what happened reached me before we jumped out of the system, so we just had to double back. All I had to do was make a case for needing your expertise, and since the _Helius_ is headed in the opposite direction from where we’re going, it wasn’t difficult to convince the Emperor.”

Yuuri was about to ask what exactly Prince Victor meant by “needing his expertise” but the when the metal walls of the dock gave way to glass, Yuuri gasped at the sight before him, his words lost.

At the end of the dock was an impressive ship, a fraction of the size of the _Helius_ but absolutely gorgeous; sleek with with silver accents and the FROST logo on the wing. Even if its name hadn’t been clearly emblazoned on the size, it would be impossible to mistake the renowned flagship of the fleet for any other vessel. It was the first and only cruiser of its class, fitted with the most advanced technology in the galaxy. The empire had spared no expense in order to build the _Corona_ and it showed already. Even someone like Yuuri—who only liked to involve himself in military affairs occasionally and only for important matters—could recognize this ship instantly.

“Wow,” Yuuri breathed out, placing a hand on the glass as he stopped for a moment to take it in.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” It was easy to make out the pride in Prince Victor’s voice.

“Yes. I’ve never seen a ship like that before.” To be fair, Yuuri was not particularly well-traveled though he’d been on a small number of starships back when he trained with his mentor. Nothing close to the _Corona_ , though, not in any way. And in moments, he would step foot into a ship he thought he would only ever be able to envision in his dreams. But would it be as a welcome guest or as a glorified prisoner?

Yuuri caught up to the Crown Prince, who had slowed his step for him out of courtesy. He expected the man to brag at least a little by now, either about essentially rescuing Yuuri from his doom or even just about his ship. But Prince Victor had barely spoken, though the silence wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. There was a calmness that seemed to surround the man, evident in the way aether flowed around him, that set Yuuri strangely at ease.

Once they reached the end of the dock, they waited for the heavy doors to slowly open. “Inside the airlock we’ll undergo decontamination—just takes a few seconds. It also automatically takes a bio-sample from you and registers you in the ship’s system. No big deal,” Victor explained in the meantime. Routine decontamination was not standard on most starships unless a need arose, such as returning from planets with varying atmosphere, or questionable flora and fauna. Yamato didn’t fall into any of those categories, thankfully. “Also it fries most spy tech.”

Oh. _There_ was the real reason.

“I can’t decide if that’s cautious or paranoid,” Yuuri deadpanned. But he supposed that if you were a specialized task force with high security being a necessity, you would do anything to prevent someone from snooping around.

“Better safe than sorry,” Victor shrugged as he walked forward, bringing up his holopanel and tapping at it briefly.  The airlock of the ship hissed open and Victor gestured for Yuuri to enter first. “After you.”

After Prince Victor entered, the airlock sealed before a series of lasers scanned the two of them. “ _Standby, decontamination is in progress_ ,” a modulated female voice told them. Yuuri guessed it to be the ship’s AI. As the lasers stopped, a few beeps alerted them that the process was finished. Prince Victor reached out to the nearby screen and pressed a few buttons. “ _Registration complete: Yuuri Katsuki, Prince of Yamato. Status: diplomat. Clearance level: 4_.”

“See? All done,” Prince Victor said cheerfully. “Welcome aboard the _Corona_.”

The doors opened to little fanfare—though it wasn’t like Yuuri was expecting a welcoming committee. The airlock opened up to a hallway that ran to either side. The wall on the opposite side of the airlock had on it the FROST logo and the ship’s name, though Yuuri felt like it was superfluous at this point. The point of opening up to a wall, of course, he could understand as another security measure.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said as they stepped out into the ship proper.

“ _The commanding officer is aboard. Executive officer Giacometti stands relieved_ ,” the AI announced as Victor led them to to the right. Yuuri had no choice but to follow, though he wasn’t feeling especially rebellious at the moment. Especially not when he was essentially indebted to Prince Victor—and oh, that was not something he particularly liked.

The hallway led to a larger area where there were a handful of soldiers either milling around or tapping away at the datapad in their hands. A few looked up at Yuuri before saluting the Crown Prince as they passed, much like what had happened back on the Helius. Yet everyone seemed more relaxed here, more casual. It was less them snapping to attention as it was respectfully acknowledging their commanding officer’s presence.

After a short elevator ride up one floor, they got to a set of large doors that hissed open to reveal what Yuuri could recognize as the bridge, almost blinding white in color. There were more people inside, mostly sitting at various stations around the perimeter of the bridge while a blonde man stood in the center. When he turned around, Yuuri recognized him as Major Giacometti.

“I thought it would take longer,” the man said slowly when Yuuri and Prince Victor entered. The other soldiers stood and some of them came closer. One in particular—with dark hair, tan skin, and kind smile—came to stand next to the Major’s side.

“So did I, but my father relented quickly. The _Helius_ is enroute to the Terminus sector, so it was only prudent that we bring along Prince Yuuri for our own expedition since it’s in the opposite direction,” Victor explained to them.

“So I see. The bridge is yours, Commander,” the Major said before turning to smile at Yuuri. “I’m glad you’re alright, Prince Yuuri.”

“Thank you, Major.”

“Oh, please, no need to be so formal. Just call me Chris.”

“A-Alright, then.” Wasn’t that _too_ informal, though?

“I had a bit of a scare when I read the transmission, but yeah—so glad you’re okay!” said the other man, seeming bright and friendly already.

“This is Phichit Chulanont, the chief communications officer aboard our ship,” Prince Victor introduced cordially.

“Nice to meet you, Your Highness! Just call me Phichit!”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Everyone,” Prince Victor started, addressing the bridge in general, “Prince Yuuri of Yamato will be staying with us for now. Let's treat him like part of our family.”

Family? This was a military operation, not some kind of kiddie training camp. Moreover, this was _FROST_ of all things. Yuuri found it difficult to believe that this was the feared and respected special forces unit, and found it especially difficult to believe that its leader was so….

Well, Yuuri didn’t quite know what to even make of him, but it certainly wasn’t what he expected. He couldn’t decide whether or not that was a good thing.

There were a few murmurs around the room but no one seemed wary of him or unpleasant in general. A few glances and even a few smiles were thrown his way, which was really more than Yuuri could hope for at the moment. It was worlds better than the cold indifference he faced from just about everyone back on the _Helius_.

“Phichit, would you mind showing Prince Yuuri around the ship and to the guest cabin?” Prince Victor asked.

“It’d be my honor!” Phichit said happily, throwing Yuuri a bright grin.

“Thanks.” Prince Victor turned back to Yuuri and gave him an apologetic look. “I'm sorry. I’d show you around my ship myself but there are some negotiations to be had before we head off to Myren.”

“Of course. I understand,” Yuuri said, not understanding at all why the man was actually apologizing.

“Let’s not waste any time! It’s a big ship!” Phichit said excitedly, heading out the door and beckoning Yuuri to follow. It wasn't like Yuuri had anything else to do anyway (or like he still had much of a choice but to go along with with what he was told).

And so, leaving behind Prince Victor and Maj— _Chris_ —he trailed behind a very animated Phichit, who was saying something about the quad-reinforced hull of the ship or something that mostly went right over Yuuri’s head.

“Our hyperdrive is also an experimental version of the current AZO series that's used in most of the higher-end battlecruisers currently in service,” Phichit told him as they walked back past the airlock. The few crew members they passed nodded politely at them again, but mostly minded their own business and went along their way.

“Um… experimental? What do you mean?” Not surprisingly, the inner workings of the _Corona_ were classified and as far as anyone really knew, it was state-of-the-art. That’s all.

“Oh, don’t worry! It's perfectly safe and functional. It’s more efficient than any other hyperdrive out there in the whole galaxy, but it’s _waaay_ too expensive to make on a larger scale. So they label it as experimental until it doesn’t cost the Navy five trillion credits per unit to make,” Phichit said. Yuuri hadn’t actually been worried at all, but it was nice to be reassured that their hyperdrive wouldn’t malfunction in the middle of a jump and strand them in deep space or something.

Phichit was an energetic tour guide to say the least. As he led Yuuri to various parts of the ship—including nooks and crannies he claimed were perfect napping spots that Yuuri wasn’t sure he was allowed to know about—his enthusiasm never waned. It was infectious, in a way, and Yuuri found himself laughing at his comment that the best thing about the ship was it’s soft lighting, which was apparently excellent for selfies.

The layout of the ship was fairly simple. It consisted of four decks and a lower shuttle bay. They'd started on the top (or “first”) deck, where the bridge and gunnery stations were located, along with various executive command centers. Then they’d headed to lower deck, which was mainly engineering and held the ship’s hyperdrive core. The deck above was where the barracks and training rooms were, and where most of the crew hung out. The remaining deck was where the officer’s quarters, medbay, and mess hall were located. Though the most interesting thing on that deck was what the crew apparently called the star lounge: a room where a portion of the hull was replaced by a massive wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor window (though Phichit explained that it was as strong as the rest of the hull, and that this—along with all windows on the ship—would be automatically covered by protective retractable plating in the event of an attack). The view was breathtaking—a swath of twinkling stars against the pure blackness of space, as far as the eye could see. It was far more dimly lit than  the rest of ship to aid in stargazing. There was even a  small bar to one side of the room, and long couches arranged near the window so one could sit and enjoy the view. It was instantly Yuuri’s favorite place on the ship and he was pleased to hear that he was free to come here anytime he wanted. Though he didn't get to enjoy the view as much as he would have liked, as Phichit was insistent on finishing his tour first.

“This is the medbay,” Phichit said as they finally made their way to a large room that was located towards the stern in relation to the star lounge, and on the other side of the ship. It was furnished with several healing pods and other machinery Yuuri was unfamiliar with. He rarely spent time in places such as this, despite numerous injuries from training with his mentor. Both of them had been proficient in healing magic, so it wasn’t too difficult to patch up an abrasion or mend a fracture. But healing magic was complicated and difficult to learn. Being shot with a blaster probably required more attention than most people were capable of. “If the ship itself is state-of-the-art, then this place is certainly no exceptions. Lighting is a little dimmer in here, though, like the stat longue….”

“It’s to help patients sleep,” came a voice from behind one of the larger machines. A woman with long brown hair and violet eyes popped into view, smiling at Yuuri as though they were already acquainted. “Hi, Prince Yuuri! I got word that you’d be joining us. I’m Sara Crispino, the chief medical officer on this ship.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuuri bid her, shaking her hand briefly when she offered it. She seemed almost as lively as Phichit, with bright eyes and a friendly smile. Again, Yuuri was shocked at how young she appeared to be despite her rank.

“I have your basic bio-data for now, but would you mind terribly if I asked you to visit before dinner? Oh! Speaking of which, have you had anything to eat yet?” Sara looked questioningly at Phichit who balked.

“Damn, I forgot to ask if those imperial goons gave you any food,” Phichit said apologetically.

“I was only there for a few hours, really.”

“Still, looks like it's lunch time! Anyway, I skipped eating earlier too—I was so worried that Victor wouldn’t be able to get you off the _Helius_.”

“Phichit!” Sara chastised, her hands on her hips as she gave him a disapproving look. “No skipping meals, not on this ship! I already have to worry about our illustrious leader ‘losing track of time’ every other day, and I don’t need to be babysitting anyone else!”

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to! We’ll go right now, I promise. It’s sandwiches today, anyway!” Phichit said, more-or-less dragging Yuuri out of the room.

“Bye! It was nice to meet you, Prince Yuuri!” Sara called out to them as they left, but Yuuri didn’t get a chance to reply at the rate he was being pulled along.

The galley was on the other side of the medbay and opened directly into the mess hall. Officers weren’t really bound by time when it came to mealtimes, Phichit informed him, and they were relatively free to grab meals whenever they deemed it most convenient. The cook hardly gave Phichit a second glance when they gallivanted into the galley and grabbed two sandwiches, but nodded respectfully to Yuuri.

Everywhere he went on this ship, it was so different than the _Helius_ . Not only were the soldiers more courteous, but everything was (almost alarmingly) casual. Apart from being laid back and welcoming, ranks hardly seemed to matter. Phichit, for example, acted the same way to an ensign as he did with Sara or even with Prince Victor. Oddly enough, by the time Phichit brought him to the guest cabin, Yuuri began to realize that maybe this is what Prince Victor had meant when he used the term _family_.

“So this is where you’ll be staying,” Phichit informed him, opening up the door by tapping slightly at its center where there was a hololock. It slid open to reveal a simple yet surprisingly spacious room that consisted of a bed directly opposite to the door, a desk to one side, and a small closet to the other. The colors were simple and muted, mostly black and white. A small vase with pretty flowers of some kind was atop one of the nightstands, while the other held what looked to be like an intercom of some kind. Phichit gestured towards a door on the far wall saying, “Your own private bathroom! It’s actually pretty nice. Better than the communal showers at least.”

“And I won’t have to fight over the one with the best water pressure.”

“Exactly!” Phichit said as Yuuri turned around and sat down on the bed, facing him as he leaned against the door frame with a thoughtful expression. “You’ll fit in here just fine, even if you don’t believe it yet. Trust me, I can tell.”

Yuuri honestly didn’t see the need to fit in. He was here for a reason. A diplomat with a certain value, increased marginally due to his relatively unique skillset. These people might be more welcoming and kind, but at the end of the day, Yuuri was still just pawn to be used. All he wanted was to see what sort of game he was a part of now, and if he could influence the outcome at all.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said amicably, turning his gaze away from Phichit. The man seemed to get the idea that Yuuri wasn’t in the mood for more talk, but just as he made to leave, he stopped.

“I’ve always heard that Yamato was beautiful. As a kid, I visited once. During a festival of some sort? There were these beautiful pink flowers blooming everywhere.”

Yuuri’s head snapped up, his mind suddenly having a difficult time processing this new information. “The cherry blossom festival?” he supplied.

“Yeah! That’s the one, I think! I’m from a cluster nearby—well, kinda. My uncle was an ambassador and we had a lot of trade with Yamato among other places. So one day he took me along with him.”

“I didn’t know you were from nearby.” For some reason, it was just comforting to know that someone on this ship was from his sector. He liked Phichit already—his sincerity and bubbly personality—and this was yet another reason. But was it wise to trust someone so quickly?

“Most of my family is still back there, but I got into the Rossiyan Imperial Academy for communications and xenolinguistics, so off I went!”

“Wow, congratulations,” Yuuri said, the nonchalance of Phichit’s tone failing to mask the weight of his accomplishment. The Rossiyan Imperial Academy was selective to say the least. A few hundred thousand applicants a year were selected from the _entire galaxy_. It was billions of prospective students competing for a spot and even if you had a political background to ease your way through the door, getting in was no simple feat.

“Thanks! Worked my ass of for it, sure, but then again so has everyone on this ship.” So that was it, then. The obvious solution to the big mystery as to why everyone aboard the _Corona_ was so young.

They were all prodigies.

“Still, it’s kind of a big deal, isn’t it?”

“I guess! But I think the bigger deal is _you_. I did some researching found out that only four known people in the galaxy are confirmed to have perfect attunement. Two of those are hermits, one is a nomad, and the remaining one is you.”

“Hmm. Maybe if I were a nomad or a hermit, the Empire wouldn’t have come knocking.” Phichit laughed at that, but Yuuri was semi-serious. Following the completion of his training, his mentor has suggested joining her in the nomadic lifestyle—wandering from place to place, seeing new worlds, meeting new people. It was, in all honesty, something Yuuri had dreamt about as a child. But he’d known since the moment he’d become her pupil that his responsibilities as a Prince would always interfere with such fantasies. He had a duty to all the people who counted on him, and he was aware that being perfectly attuned while being in a high-profile position would make him a target of sorts to the people who knew. But if he’d known back then that he would end up here, in the Empire’s hands, then maybe he would have taken up his mentor’s offer after all.

But such was his fate, and Yuuri knew better than to complain.

“But anyway, I hope you like it here. Don’t worry about the Empire, okay?” Phichit said in a tone that instantly piqued Yuuri’s curiosity yet again. He was about to ask what exactly what the deal was regarding FROST and the Empire, but Phichit made to leave—as though he’d said too much and was now unsure. “I’ll leave you to it for now, but if you need anything at all, just give me a call via the intercom. Also, Victor’s room is right next door and I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help if you. If the door’s open, it means you can walk right in.”

“Wait—”

“Bye!”

And just like that, Phichit was gone and Yuuri was left with even more questions than before. It seemed to be a recurring theme and all he could do was hope that at some point, things would start making sense. It wasn’t like he was going to go barge into Prince Victor’s room and demand an explanation. He wasn’t even sure if the man was back from his _negotiations_ yet, and as they walked down the corridor leading to these rooms, the door had been closed. For now, there was nothing else for him to do but unpack and relax until something happened.

 

* * *

 

Politicians would be the bane of Victor’s existence and the irony of the matter was not lost on him.

It felt like hours before he emerged from the holodeck—a dark, circular room with specialized panels on the wall and floor that projected his image to a recipient and likewise loaded a real-time image of them into the room as well. There was sparse else in there and Victor figured that he probably should have a chair installed for practicality’s sake.

He headed to the mess hall, his stomach telling him that it was probably well past dinner. The relative emptiness of the ship’s corridors confirmed that even before he arrived at the mess to find only Christophe there, sitting at the end of one of the tables with a datapad in hand. He looked up as Victor approached, but didn’t smile; he only let out a long sigh, setting aside the datapad as Victor sat down across from him.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” he asked. He waved at the cook waiting at the edge of the galley to bring them their meals. “You’re lucky I had the cook set aside some for us.”

“You didn’t have to wait up for me, but thank you,” Victor said. Honestly Chris was a better first mate and friend than Victor deserved. The cook quietly placed two warm trays in front of them, fixing Victor with a look before disappearing back into the galley.

“It’s fine. I was just looking over some old reports anyway. Garzans in the Terminus sector?”

“Yeah.” Victor didn’t have the energy to think about that as well.

“And what about Myren?”

“The Keeper still isn’t all that willing to meet with us. He refused to take my transmission, actually, but I got through to the Minister of Niliya and she was more reasonable. She finally convinced the Keeper to at least talk to us, through the provision being that Prince Yuuri accompany us.”

“Just as you predicted. Why did you even waste all that time trying to talk to them if you could have just opened with that?” he asked around a piece of broccoli he’d popped into his mouth.

“You never play your ace right at the beginning, Chris.”

“I’m just saying it could’ve save you the trouble and we wouldn’t be sitting here eating all alone.” Chris had a point but mostly Victor was reluctant to use Prince Yuuri as a bargaining chip right off the bat. In the back of his mind he _knew_ that it would have been easier to lead with the Prince’s remarkable ability to interact with codex fragments. Surely the Keeper himself would have listened. And he _knew_ it would come down to this in the end. But it just felt.... well, like something his father would do. If there was a chance to keep Prince Yuuri from getting tangled up in all of this, it was worth the try.

But in the end, what it came down to was getting the codex fragments away from the Niliyans as soon as possible—before his father barged in and started a galactic war.

He and Chris finished their meal in relative silence, both sharing the silent awareness that tomorrow was going to be a long day. “Don’t forget to check in on our guest—not that you would, of course. I’m sure you’re very eager to see how he’s settling in,” Chris said after they’d returned their trays to the galley.

“Of course. I want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

Chris snorted a laugh at that, giving him a pat on the shoulder before they parted ways. Chris’s cabin was on the exact opposite side of the ship, along with the other officers’. The only other cabin on Victor’s side of the ship was the guest cabin, but as Victor approached the door, he hesitated. It was late and quite possible that Prince Yuuri was asleep already. It hadn’t been an easy day for him and Victor was reluctant to disturb him. So ultimately deciding against it, Victor opted retire to his own cabin for the night and to check on the Prince in the morning, before the briefing.

However, Victor felt too restless for the time being. He knew, wound up as he was after dealing with his father and then long deliberations with politicians, there was no way he was going to fall asleep easily. So following a quick shower and dressed in just plain pants and a t-shirt, he headed back out of his cabin and towards the star lounge.

The ship was quiet now, the crew either all asleep or getting ready to call it a night. The few he saw on his way to the lounge bid him a good night on their way to the barracks with drowsy smiles, all as dressed down as he was. The lights throughout the ship were dimmed or turned off in favor of softer lighting that ran along the floor. The low hum of the ship’s hyperdrive was audible if you listened for it; the only evidence of them travelling at incredible speeds towards their destination.

The doors to the star lounge opened automatically upon his arrival—no hololock to cause him to pause—and yet Victor froze in the threshold. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be there, not this late. And yet sitting comfortably at the end of one of the couches was none other than Prince Yuuri—who looked just as surprised to see him. He was dressed down in what looked to be an oversized sleeping robe, not entirely dissimilar to his beautiful regal ones. He had his legs tucked under him, his posture altogether more relaxed than Victor had ever seen of him until now.

“Ah, Prince Yuuri,” Victor acknowledged, “May I join you?”

“It’s your ship, Commander,” the prince answered, gesturing towards the other couch.

“It’s your privacy, Your Grace.” Prince Yuuri briefly seemed like he was about to say something, but then apparently thought better of it, turning away to look out the window as Victor sat down on the couch across.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Victor asked, settling in and gazing out of the window as well.

“It’s been an… eventful day.” Prince Yuuri’s voice was softer, somehow—much like the rest of him. It felt like Victor was getting a privileged glimpse of the prince with his walls down momentarily.

“I agree. I hope you’ve found the _Corona_ to be a less, ah, intense place to stay,” Victor said carefully.

“Yes,” Prince Yuuri replied in a similar tone. “Your crew has been more hospitable as well.”

“I’m glad.”

They lapsed into an predictable awkward silence. This politespeak was not something Victor was good at. Stiff, unnatural. Like choosing where to place your pieces on a chessboard, rather than having a conversation. It was too deliberately meaningless.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Prince Yuuri replied immediately, sounding relieved that Victor broke the silence. He looked at Victor expectantly, his dark eyes reflecting starlight.

“Would you be alright joining us tomorrow?”

“I thought that was a given,” Prince Yuuri blinked. “Isn’t that why I’m here in the first place?”

“Among other things, yes. But I just wanted to make sure it was something you were alright with. Though I’ll be completely honest—negotiations aren’t going well, and I’m fairly certain that without your presence tomorrow, we might not be able to get the codex fragment,” Victor said candidly. “I know you’re reluctant to help the Empire, but trust me, it’s not safe to leave the codex where it is.”

“Why’s that?”

“My father _will_ go after it, sooner or later. If it’s on the _Corona_ , I can at least say it’s safe. He would have no need to travel to Myren, and there would be no trouble.”

“I see,” Prince Yuuri said slowly, turning back to the window. “I’ll help. Thank you… for asking me.”

“Of course. There’s a briefing at 0800, and you’re welcome to attend. We’ll be in the sector in about nine hours from now.”

“What? So fast?” Prince Yuuri looked up at him in genuine surprise.

“We have the most advanced hyperdrive in the fleet,” Victor reminded him proudly. “That, and we also have top-level clearance in all hyperdrive lanes.”

If the _Corona_ was a normal commercial ship, it would take them closer to 26 standard hours, due to a more basic core and low-to-middle level lane clearance. Victor didn’t know all the intricacies, but military ships obviously had the highest lane clearance, with FROST being no exception. Bottom line was that they wasted little time in transit, and it was part of how FROST was able to function so efficiently as a strike team.

“Still, nine hours is surprising. I’ve never—” Prince Yuuri cut himself off, as though he thought twice about sharing information about himself.

Victor decided to try his luck. “You’ve never been on a starship before?”

“O-Oh, no, I have,” Prince Yuuri corrected him,  sweetly flustered. The sudden change from his previous stoicism was delightful, and Victor had to try not to smile too widely in return. “I’ve been on a few, back when I was training with my mentor. We traveled to a few nearby worlds, just on passenger ships. Nothing of this scale, of course.”

“I feel like I grew up on starships,” Victor said, settling into the comfortable couch a little more. He was glad he didn’t compromise on any part of the _Corona_ , including the furniture. He’d spent too long on older ships run by those who didn’t seem to understand the need for comfort on long voyages through the merciless void of space. “I’ve always had a love of spaceflight.”

Travelling through beautiful nebulae with nothing but your ship and loyal crew; the encompassing silence and knowledge that you were so small compared to everything else…. There was just nothing quite like that feeling. Looking out at the distant, gleaming stars of clusters lightyears away, Victor felt at peace.

He felt at home.

“It's beautiful out here,” Prince Yuuri said, his voice barely above a whisper, somehow as entrancing as watching the slow swirl of a galaxy. “It must be wonderful to be able to travel like this, among the the stars.”

“It is,” Victor agreed simply. He decided to try his luck a little more. “Do you think it’s something you could get used to?”

The prince gave him sideways glance, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised, but his expression gave away nothing more than mild amusement at the question. Victor figured that’s as far as his luck would get him tonight, but was still pleased at the fact that Prince Yuuri seemed a little more comfortable around him. The silence that followed was at least not as awkward as before.

“About tomorrow—or, er, a few hours from now—what exactly am I expected to do?” Prince Yuuri asked afterwards.

“It’s difficult to say. Hopefully you’ll be able to persuade the Keeper of Myren to give us the codex by meeting and speaking with him. Given your abilities, he may be more willing.”

“Talking to people is not really my strong suit,” the prince said flatly. “I mean, the last time I spoke to a politician, I got thrown in the brig.”

“That’s a fair point,” Victor laughed. He wanted to remark on how efficiently Prince Yuuri had managed the feat, though it was probably better not to encourage recklessness as far as the Emperor was concerned. “But I’m sure you’ll be just fine. In any case, you won’t be alone and you’ll be completely safe. I give you my word on that.”

“Thank you,” the prince said as Victor stood. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Of course. Please, stay as long as you like. This is the best spot on the ship, in my opinion. But still, I encourage you to get some rest before we arrive in Myren. I have a feeling it’s not going to be as straightforward as we’d like,” Victor sighed, straightening out his shirt. He noticed Prince Yuuri’s eyes following the movement.

“Alright,” the man said quietly.

“Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night, Commander.”

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

The briefing room was on the top deck, towards the aft of the ship, opposite the bridge. In the center of the spacious room was a large oval table, carved of dark wood with an intricate FROST snowflake in the center. Around it were a dozen cushioned chairs, a few of which were occupied with sleepy officers by the time Victor walked in. Along with Chris, Phichit, Mila, and Georgi were present as always. Prince Yuuri was there as well, at one end of the table, in a simple light canary-colored robe that was tied with a white sash. It was muted and modest, yet he looked as lovely as ever, with the color complementing his fair complexion.

“Good morning, crew,” Victor said enthusiastically as he entered, after tearing his eyes away from the prince and hoping no one caught him staring for a moment. He took the nearest open seat, next to Chris.

Greetings came in the form of the various unintelligible mumbles from everyone, reminding Victor that he was likely the only morning person on the whole ship. Judging by how tried Prince Yuuri looked too, it seems that fact remained unchanged.

“Should I delay the briefing to sometime later?” he joked, but was met with surprisingly enthusiastic (yet still equally unintelligible) mumbles. “Sorry, no can do—we’ll be in the Nexus sector in about an hour, and then it’s just a few minutes to Myren.”

“Then we’d better get on with it,” Chris said, not attempting to stifle his yawn whatsoever.

“So to start off—” Victor said, pressing a button on the underside of the table that caused a panel in front of him to slide open. A few taps later and the center snowflake on the table lit up, and a holographic projection of the Nexus sector was beamed for all to see. “The Nexus sector is outside of imperial space. We have no formal jurisdiction there, and are merely on ‘arguably decent’ terms with them due to an old peace treaty.

“We’re headed to Myren, which is the sovereign world that oversees the entire sector, and whose capital is Niliya—where the heart of the government resides along with the esteemed Keeper of Myren.” The projection zoomed in on the world, and then the capital city as Victor spoke. “He’s the one that oversees things of cultural significance to the planet, among other things.” An image of the man—a tall human with plain clothes and an austere expression—materialized next, distorted slightly by the blue-ish haze from the hologram.

“He does _not_ look friendly,” Mila murmured from the other side of the table.

“No. He refused to meet with us until I got the Minister of Niliya to convince him to hear us out,” Victor explained as a the hologram changed to show the Minister—an older woman with a much softer expression than the Keeper. “We have an _appointment_ with him, and I’m hoping by taking along Prince Yuuri, we’ll be able to make progress.”

“All this, just to talk,” Chris said with a dramatic sigh. “I sure hope you’ve got something up your sleeve, Your Grace.”

“I—um. Well, I’m simply hoping he’ll listen to reason. Failing that, I might have to do a few parlor tricks to impress him,” Prince Yuuri said, looking at the wood of the table. He briefly made eye contact with Victor before looking away.

“It’s my hope that he’ll acquiesce,” Victor said. “Sometimes a little old-fashioned diplomacy is all you really need.”

“You’re awfully optimistic,” Chris remarked, throwing him a look dipped in suspicion.

“I have no choice but to be. We have very little information, truth be told. The Myrenians aren’t exactly forthcoming when it concerns an imperial fleet, as separated as we are from the Navy.”

“In their eyes, we might as well be the same, I guess,” Phichit said, grimacing as though the thought was as unpleasant to him as it was to Victor.

“It’s safer for _us_ though, if it’s that way.” Mila was ever the pragmatist and Victor nodded in agreement. “At least for now.”

“Wait, hold on—” Prince Yuuri interjected, confusion all over his face. “I know this is off-topic, but the more I hear, the more I feel like there’s some sort of organized _rebellion_ going on, with FROST at the helm.”

No one spoke.

The soft hum of the hologram was the only noise in the room as the prince caught Victor’s gaze and held it firmly.

“You wouldn’t be entirely wrong,” Victor assured him, watching the shock spread across the prince’s face. “It’s a little complicated. Suffice it to say for now that FROST doesn’t see eye-to-eye with the Imperial Navy.”

Prince Yuuri sat back in his chair, seemingly retreating into his thoughts. Victor didn’t like keeping him in the dark, but the less he knew, the safer he would be—and that was top priority.

“Moving along though, we should be arriving soon,” Georgi said, tapping his own screen and causing the hologram in front of them to change to show their current trajectory. “We’ll exit the hyperdrive lane shortly, and it’ll drop us within the Nexus sector, a few clicks away from Myren. We don’t have clearance to dock directly at their spaceport, but we’ve been given clearance for the skydock. You’ll have to take a shuttle down to the surface.”

“Wow, that doesn’t sound too optimal. If we say something they don’t like, they can just impound our little shuttle and keep us there forever?” Phichit's fears we're not unfounded. It had been known to happen, and there was not much outside of negotiation (or begging) that could be done if it came to that.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. They’re probably just being cautious, since we’re FROST.”

“At least they’re letting us use the skydock.”

“Let’s get ready. No need to dress up. If we show up in full dress, they might think we’re being arrogant,” Victor said, standing. There wasn't much else to discuss. The other stood as well, including Prince Yuuri. “Your Grace, you’re free to wear whatever you’d like, of course. What you’re wearing now is perfectly lovely.”

“I concur,” Chris said in a tone filled with a little too much mischief, his eyes sliding from the Prince to Victor, and accompanied by a knowing smirk. Victor chose not to respond, apart from a neutral smile.

“Thank you. But I think I have something that fits the occasion better.” Victor had no objections to that. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see the Prince dolled up like he’d been back on Yamato.

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

A little over an hour later, Victor stood on the bridge as they exited the hyperdrive lane. The hum of the core slowly tapered off, though it was really only perceptible because Victor’s ears were so attuned to it.

“Exiting hyperdrive,” Georgi announced as they were popped out in the Nexus sector proper. “Entering FTL.”

Whereas hyperdrive was used for long-range travel between sectors and within lanes, faster-than-light travel was better suited for shorter distances like within (and between) systems. Hyperdrive _could_ still be used, but chances of overshooting coordinates during a jump was a real possibility.

 _“Shore party to shuttle bay,”_ the AI automatically announced, once the star chart showed twenty standard minutes to their destination.

Victor nodded to Chris and Phichit who left the bridge in short order, albeit at a leisurely pace. After all, there was no equipment to worry about—obviously, carrying weapons was not an option. (And hopefully unnecessary, though if worse came to worst, they were all skilled in spellcraft.) No environment suits to fit themselves into and check. They were just simply going to walk off the ship onto Myren’s dock, and whatever awaited them after that they’d simply have to deal with as it came.

“Approach vectors received. ETA three minutes to Myren’s skydock. Incoming transmission from dock control.”

“Patch them through, Georgi.”

“Greetings, _Corona_. This is Myren Skydock Control. We have orders from the Minister to allow your vessel to dock for the time being. Please note that upon arrival, you will need to disembark via shuttle to the surface skyport, the coordinates of which will be provided upon anchoring,” came the instructions.

“Thank you, Control.”

“Please also note that we are under order to monitor your vessel for the duration of your stay. This is standard protocol for all imperial vessels.”

“Understood.”

The connection was terminated thereafter, and Georgi swiveled around in his seat, an eyebrow raised. “No trust whatsoever.”

Victor simply shrugged. He couldn’t really blame them for being cautious. “Take care of our ship, Georgi. She’s in your hands for now.”

“Aye aye, Commander. Good luck. I hope the Keeper doesn’t put up too much of a fight.”

“You and me both.”

Victor left for the shuttle bay, heading down the elevator alone. Negotiations _had_ to go well. This whole operation _had_ to work. There was no room for error and no alternatives. He’d tried other options already and now all that was left was to play the ace, and hope that it would be enough.

Speaking of which—

Chris and Prince Yuuri were conversing in front of the shuttle, the latter having changed from the light yellow robes to a navy colored outfit. As Victor approached, the prince turned to face him.

“Hello, Commander.”

Victor stopped dead in his tracks and Chris, the traitor, only shot him a shit-eating grin before retreating into the shuttle.

“H-Hello.” It was a struggle to get that one word out while trying to make eye contact with Prince Yuuri. In the end, he gave up, letting his eyes roam briefly along the princes shockingly slender figure. Victor had never seen him in anything but those humble robes—beautiful but conservative to the point of concealing virtually everything. It was like being slapped in the face now, seeing the prince in a perfectly-fitted jacket and pants; every edge, every curve on display.

The most obvious thing was his hair: slicked back neatly, giving a clear view of his pretty face and lovely eyes. His silver circlet glittered atop his dark locks. He looked older somehow, more mature. Definitely more sexy. Victor’s throat felt dry already.

The jacket the prince was wearing was a deep navy everywhere but the lapels, which were exaggerated in shape and a shiny, metallic sky-blue. That—along with the plunging neckline of the dark shirt underneath—drew attention to the flawless column of the prince’s neck, and to his exposed collarbones. The jacket and shirt themselves were fairly simple and were without any intricate designs, but maybe that was the point.

In all honesty, Prince Yuuri needed no decoration of any sort. And despite the overall modesty of this outfit, it still seemed almost scandalous on him. Maybe it was the way the jacket was cinched at his waist—his _tiny_ waist, oh lord. Victor was entirely certain that if he were to grasp the prince’s waist, he’d be able to easily encircle his hands around it and meet his fingertips in the middle, right at the prince’s navel. It wouldn't even be difficult to pick him up like that, he bet.

Maybe it wasn’t that though—maybe it was the pants. They were _so_ tight it was almost as if they were painted on, and Victor struggled to swallow. It showcased Prince Yuuri’s thighs in the most obscene way and maybe, just maybe this broke a few laws and Victor could take justice into his own hands and arrest—

“Commander?”

Victor’s eyes shot up to meet Prince Yuuri’s, and he was keenly aware that he’d just spent a good, long moment staring at the man silent and slack-jawed. A faint blush spread across the bridge of the prince’s nose as he blinked, also becoming aware of this same fact. He looked away bashfully, and Victor suddenly felt this strange urge to do _something, anything_ as he watched the prince worry his plush bottom lip between his teeth.

He needed to speak with the engineers on fixing the air conditioning in the shuttle bay.

“Um.”

“I-Is this inappropriate?” the Prince asked in a worried tone, flicking his eyes up to meet Victor’s again. Were his eyelashes always so long?

“No,” Victor said far too fast. He quickly had to accept the fact that his higher mental functions were not capable of advanced processing at the moment. He just had to go with whatever came out of his mouth and hope that it wasn’t something that would get a harassment suit filed against him. “It’s appropriate. It’s very appropriate. You look—wow, uh—amazing.”

“Oh! Thank you,” the Prince replied, standing up with a little more confidence at the fumbled compliment. Victor would take the time to be embarrassed later, but for now he savored the little smile the Prince gave him before turning around and walking into the shuttle.

Victor took his time following onboard, carefully cataloguing the fact that the prince’s jacket was shorter in the back and possibly very purposefully so. He needed to find whoever tailored those pants to be so form-fitting so he could send them a least twelve gift baskets, all anonymously. With the prince’s back turned to him, he afforded himself a few extra moments of shameless staring before boarding the shuttle too.

He sat down next to Chris, keeping his expression as neutral as possible while dutifully ignoring the look his XO was no doubt giving him. He was right across from Prince Yuuri, who was sandwiched between Phichit and Mila, and forced himself to look nowhere but his eyes.

There was a slight jolt a few seconds later that told him they’d docked. The jolt was from from the magnetic anchors clamping down on the ship’s wings, keeping it securely in place even when if they were suspended high up in Myren’s stratosphere. The whole skydock must’ve been suspended in a powerful aether field, keep it afloat in perpetuity.

Next was the sound of the ramp of the shuttle bay opening and the him of the shuttle's engine coming to life. It lifted it off the floor of the bay slowly, and out they went into Myren's airspace.

 

* * *

 

It took a bit of effort for Yuuri to get over how Prince Victor had looked at him. Normally the man was so stoic and composed. Yuuri still couldn’t figure out why he’d seemed so blatantly shocked.

Maybe dark blue just wasn’t Yuuri’s color.

He tried to put it out of his mind once in the shuttle, which speaking of, was not so different than the one from the _Helius_. Once the shuttle got going, it was easier to lose himself in his surroundings.

Myren looked so different compared to Yamato from what Yuuri could see. From their height, he could see a vast city sprawling out beneath them. He wondered what it would look like at night—maybe a little like what he'd heard of Rossiya: an ecumenopolis where the lights of massive buildings glittered in intricate, arranged patterns across the planet's entire surface; especially beautiful from space. But from what he knew, Myren’s main city of Niliya was large and impressive, but not was nearly of such scale.

“So, Your Grace.” Mila’s voice broke through Yuuri’s idle musings and he turned from the window to face her. She was looking at him with an inquisitive gaze that made him a little nervous. She had introduced herself earlier during the briefing, and despite being a Sergeant, immediately insisted he drop formalities with her (like everyone on this ship, apparently). Yuuri liked her at first glance, her personality  as bright as her red hair. “You’re a High Priest, right? How does a prince of your standing end up as one of those?”

Yuuri resisted the urge to say _“I was”_ and instead said, “Yes.” He paused for a second, unsure if this was the time to get into his life story, but figured a little couldn’t hurt. “I didn’t really choose it or anything, it just sort of happened because of my attunement.”

“Hm. Aren’t priests generally celibate?” Chris asked, catching Yuuri completely off-guard. He did not see the relevance in the question whatsoever.

“Chris!” Prince Victor was quick to chastise his XO, though the man just laughed. Yuuri was sure his face was already embarrassingly red.

“N-no, not in our temple. Most of the others had families.” Yuuri cleared his throat, trying to keep himself stoic and failing.

“Well that is _very_ good to know.” Chris’ voice was laden with intent, and Yuuri didn’t miss the sideways glance the man gave Victor, who was throwing back an unamused look of his own.

“Alright, don’t tease him,” Phichit said, though he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter too. He turned in his seat to face Yuuri a little better. “Tell us more about your attunement! What was training like?”

“It’s not really that interesting,” Yuuri insisted, though he was grateful for the change in subject. “I had mentor who helped me. Mostly it consisted of what you’d expect: physical training, advanced spellcraft, and lots of meditation. It’s not impossible—anyone can achieve it given enough effort and time, but I guess that’s why it’s so rare. Most people don’t have that kind of time lying around, you know?” Yuuri was the second child of a royal family, blessed with excessive free time and not subject to worries such as money. No one really depended on him, so there was no one apart from his family that would miss him if he vanished for a few years.

“Still, it couldn’t have been easy,” Mila said.

“No.” Yuuri could never said it had ever been easy. He recalled the harsh physical training, his body pushed well beyond his limits in order to change the very way the aether flowed through him; the intense and exhausting lessons in magic that left him drained of all internal aether to the point where he was no longer able to move. “It took a lot of effort, that's for sure, and not everyone would be willing to go through the process. Mostly because it has little practical purpose for normal people, anyway.”

“Really? There’s so many rumors of people doing things like walking through walls or bringing the dead back to life!” Mila insisted. The shuttle was below cloud level now, and Niliya was in full view. Towering buildings of various shapes and sizes, skycars whizzing through lanes—just what you’d expect.

“It’s nothing quite so dramatic.” Yuuri figured they didn’t need to know about the finer details of his abilities. “Mostly, perfect attunement changes the way you interact with aether. Your body—your soul—becomes unaspected.”

“Oh? Does this mean you have no elemental affiliation?” Chris asked. Yuuri nodded in response.

“That’s correct.”

Everyone was born with an affiliation to (or _was aspected towards_ ) one of the major elements: fire, water, earth, or air. Some even had a sub-aspection, such as lighting for fire, or ice for water. This determined the way one’s body processed aether, with it being aspected in regards to your own element as it passed through. For many spells, it made little difference. Naturally, it mostly affected the difficulty with which one was able to perform certain elemental spells. Conjuring a flower was obviously easier to someone whose internal aether was earth-aspected, whereas they may have difficulty summoning a flame. It was nothing that couldn’t be compensated for by either practice or some means of augmentation. But the benefit of having no such affiliation meant that someone like Yuuri was able to learn newer spells of any element with ease, because the aether was not changed or hindered in any way as it flowed through him.

“What was it before?” Prince Victor asked, a finger pressed to his lips.

Yuuri was saved from answering by the shuttle landing at the starport. Still, the Crown Prince gave him look that told Yuuri he wouldn’t forget the question.

The shuttle doors raised to reveal a woman standing with a datapad in hand. “Welcome to Niliya, the jewel of the Nexus sector,” she said in a flat tone as they disembarked. It was a practiced, rehearsed phrase and her face showed little interest. “My name is Omena. Please follow me.”

“Of course!” Prince Victor seemed enthusiastic regardless, puzzlingly enough. He practically hopped off the shuttle but then turned around and offered his hand to Yuuri—just like he had on Yamoto, only two cycles ago. His smile was soft, his eyes were bright, and Yuuri was _weak._ Just for a moment, he recalled their little conversation the night before. Maybe a little awkward but… he’d realized that he’d judged the young commander too harshly; had judged him solely based on the sins of his father. There was something about this man that had Yuuri letting his guard down and it should have been startling—it should have raised a million flags inside his head. But instead, all Yuuri could think about was how he didn’t want to ruin that smile.

So he took Prince Victor’s hand was helped (needlessly) off the shuttle, quickly breaking contact when he deemed it appropriate to do so to avoid seeming rude. He needed to get ahold of himself. There was still so much that Yuuri didn’t know, so much that the Prince was not telling him.

Stowing his thoughts for the time being, he followed the others to the skycar. It was large and able to accommodate all of them, including the stern-faced woman, and they were off as soon as she pulled the door closed.

“You’ll be meeting with the Keeper of Niliya directly.” Strangely, it wasn’t Prince Victor that Omena was looking at.

She was speaking to Yuuri.

“Um.”

“Thank you, Omena. We’re grateful for the opportunity,” Prince Victor quickly intercepted before Yuuri made a complete and utter fool out of himself.

For a second, Yuuri was afraid of what Omena would respond with, but she simply gave a curt nod and settled in her seat as the skycar whizzed through the skylane.

Because of the relative speed they were moving at, it was difficult to really get a sense of what the city was like. But from what Yuuri could tell, it was not so different than most other cities and it gave him a strange sense of relief. He’d never been outside of imperial space before, so he had no idea what to expect.

After only a few minutes, they reached the entrance of a grand building, made of stone rather than metal like all the others. It was classical in its design with large, imposing pillars, high arches with accolades, and a massive glass dome in the center. The entire building itself was situated on a verdant lawn adorned with flowers Yuuri could not recognize.

“This way.” Omena led the way towards the ornate doors which were guarded by humans, surprisingly. Normally such a task was left to capable security droids. No one commented on it as they passed by, though Yuuri saw Phichit exchange glances with Mila.

The interior of the building was about what Yuuri expected: the marriage of modern technology with classical architecture. It reminded him too much of home.

From the rotunda they were lead down down a wide hallway that opened into a courtyard on one side. It, too, was filled with colorful flowers and a fountain in the center. Past that, they ventured deeper and deeper into the building until they came to a set of double doors, plain in design. Omena pushed one open and waited until they were all inside in before letting it fall shut, as she quietly exited.

“Well, at least it's not a poorly-lit, unsettlingly quiet room we’ve just been abandoned in,” Chris said, which made the atmosphere of the poorly-lit and unsettlingly quiet room even worse.

“I’ve seen vids that start exactly like this,” Phichit said, as he inspected the burgundy-colored sofas. They seemed normal enough. “It doesn’t ever end well for the protagonists.”

“Don’t worry Phichit, the plucky sidekick doesn’t die. Too popular. You’ll be fine.” Prince Victor assured him.

“Ah, isn’t the handsome main character guaranteed to die? Gets his face clawed off?” Mila’s tone was equally as jovial and Prince Victor’s face paled.

“Please not my beautiful face.” His tone was suddenly so serious that Yuuri couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“What a narcissist.”

“It’s not narcissism, Mila, I’m just being objective.”

Before any of them could continue the scene, the sound of doors opening on the other side of the room alerted them to someone entering. Yuuri had sensed another presence just moments before, but hadn’t noticed the other entrance.

A man in plain black robes came into view, his hands tucked into the wide sleeves. He stepped out of the shadows like he was shedding a cloak of darkness. He had short, sandy-colored hair, and a stern face with deeply set green eyes. Yuuri figured that the man must be more than twice their age, at the very least, and his austere expression instantly sobered the mood.

“Hello,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “I am Loric, the Keeper of Myren. I understand that you’ve managed to convince the Minister to allow you here, and I must abide by her wishes.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” Prince Victor started amicably, his voice soft and friendly. But it clearly didn't work on the Keeper. The man’s frown only deepened.

“I agreed to meet with someone who was of perfect attunement.”

“That would be me, Keeper,” Yuuri said, taking a step forward and coming to stand next to Prince Victor.

“This is His Grace, Prince Yuuri of Yamato.” It was a formal introduction, proper by all imperial standards but Yuuri wondered if it held any weight outside imperial space. But surprisingly, the Keeper smiled ever-so-slightly at him and bowed respectfully. Yuuri blushed, not having expected that, and also because if the Keeper were to bow to anyone, it should have been to Prince Victor (who, oddly, didn’t seem to mind).

“Ah. It is truly an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” The Keeper reached into his sleeve after straightening out and pulled from it a silver flower bud on a dark green stem. “A gift.”

“O-Oh, thank you.” Yuuri accepted the simple token, reaching out and taking the flower by the stem. As soon as he made contact, he felt a strange—but not unpleasant—tingling at his fingertips, and suddenly the silver flower bloomed. The silver petals gracefully fanned out as Prince Victor and the others behind him made sounds of surprise. In the center stamens of the flower were a luminescent blue, the light pulsing softly and irregularly as if there was a current flowing through it. Yuuri realized after a moment that there _was_.

“A specialty of Myren: the silver rhododendron,” the Keeper explained, walking towards the seats and gesturing for them all to sit. “It blooms rarely and unpredictably, except when in the presence of a pure aether field and—of course—in the hands of someone with perfect attunement.”

“How would a flower know it was in the presence of such a person?” Chris’ sounded as skeptical as the rest of them looked. He was seated next to Yuuri on one side, while Prince Victor sat to the other. Yuuri could sense the Crown Prince’s discomfort, but his face hid it so well that it was borderline unnerving.

“I’m assuming it just has to do with aetheric flow,” Yuuri said, twirling the flower in his hand a little.

“More or less, yes. I have to admit, however, when the Minister told me of you, I didn't expect someone so young, Your Grace. Perfect attunement is not a quick or easy thing to achieve.”

“I was a teenager when I began my training,” Yuuri explained. Once he’d begun, there had been no stopping. Every moment had been dedicated to attaining mastery.

“Still, you must be naturally very talented to do so, especially so young when your aetheric nature is more unstable.” It _had_ been a little tricky. The younger you were, the most unstable your aether was, only finding its balance later in life. Wrangling something that had already mellowed out was considerably easier than attempting the same with something wildly unpredictable. Still though, Yuuri did not feel particularly special. It just came down to his single-minded determination.

“Thank you,” was all he could say. He paused for a moment, to see if Prince Victor or one of the others would take over, and speak for him, however the room remained quiet. It seemed that the Crown Prince was truly deferring to Yuuri in this case. “Anyway, I think you know why we’re here.”

“Right down to business, is it?” the Keeper sighed, his face resuming its original stoic expression. “You’re here for the stone tablet—codex—whatever you call it. Strange markings, stranger aetherial signature. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Myren has guarded the ancient thing for eons.”

“I understand, Keeper. My homeworld had a piece of the codex as well. I was… closely associated with it. It was important to our culture, but—”

“The Empire took it?” The Keeper scowled at Prince Victor, who did not react. “And yet you’re working for them?”

“For the Empire? No. I work for no one,” Yuuri said, his tone firm but still his voice no louder than before. “I’m cooperating with FROST and only because innocent lives may be lost.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” the Keeper said slowly as he looked at all of them, one by one.

“FROST and the Empire don’t always see eye-to-eye, if you get what I mean,” Prince Victor said. Yuuri was still surprised at how relaxed the man seemed, leaning back in his seat with his arms and legs crossed, poised yet nonchalant.

“Oh? Interesting….” The Keeper rubbed his chin for a moment, but then shook his head. “Whatever the situation is, however, I am unable to help you. You’ve come here for something I can’t provide.”

“Please, Keeper Loric, understand that if FROST can’t secure the codex fragment, the Empire _will_ come knocking sooner or later,” Prince Victor said. “I want to avoid conflict at any cost. You don’t know how far the Emperor will go to get his hands on that thing, but I can assure you, nothing is beyond his reach. He will stop at nothing, and he will just use it as an excuse to destroy this sector before annexing it. You’re a sensible man, so you must know that Myren’s Navy—as powerful as it may be—is no match for the Empire. Even with the help of your allies, it would be over before it began.”

Yuuri felt a chill run down his spine at the matter-of-fact way Prince Victor had said it. His voice was almost detached—a far cry from his generally warm nature. Yuuri didn’t know what to think of it.

For a long while, no one said anything. Yuuri could easily sense the tension in the air, the way the aether was choppy and contentious around the Keeper as he closed his eyes and deliberated with himself.

“Crudely put, Your Imperial Highness.” Yuuri felt Prince Victor tense briefly at the title. Even if the prince’s soldier back on the Emperor’s ship hadn’t told Yuuri, he would have easily noticed for himself how much the prince disliked it. It was part of why he’d switched to referring to Prince Victor as _Commander_ —at least when speaking to him. Though it felt strange to do so in his head, and of course it would be too informal to drop titles altogether. But all in all, Yuuri found it peculiar that the prince was so adverse to it, regardless of the relationship between him and his father. "As one could expect from the famed Ice Prince of Rossiya."

There was something so much deeper going on here, yet he was not in a position to ask.

“Do forgive me.”

The Keeper sighed and stood up, crossing the room to where a small pedestal stood. On it was a glass case housing a small, flat object from what Yuuri could see. With his back turned, the Keeper spoke, “Regardless, I cannot give you the fragment.”

“Keeper—” Yuuri said, cut off when the Keeper held up a hand to stop him.

“I cannot give it to you not only because I don’t want to, but because it fragment is not here,” the Keeper explained, his back still turned to them. He lifted the glass case on the pedestal and retrieved whatever had been displayed there.

“Where is it?” Prince Victor asked.

“It is not on Myren.”

There was a tense second thereafter, where Yuuri could _swear_ he felt the temperature drop around him.

“Where is it?” the prince repeated tersely, each word slow and punctuated with clear frustration. Had they really come all this way for nothing?

But the Keeper turned to face them, holding out his hand. Some sort of trinket sat in his palm. It looked like a medallion of sorts: circular, flat, golden in color. On its smooth surface were markings that Yuuri instantly recognized as similar to those on the codex fragment. The Keeper returned to where they were sitting and handed the object to Prince Victor.

“We have always known the location of the codex fragment, but we have never housed it within these walls, nor anywhere else on this planet. In truth, we were never able to retrieve it,” the Keeper explained, sitting back down across from them. “This is the only thing explorers were able to bring back.”

“Cryptic,” Phichit said from the other side of the room where he and Mila were sitting. “I’m getting tired of all that.” Mila made a noise in agreement, and the Keeper sighed.

“It’s simple, really. There’s a planet in the nearby Nemina system—same cluster as ours—third from its star. Long ago it may have been habitable, but the local fauna has made any recent settlement attempts difficult. Any structure we try to construct is overrun within the hour by malicious plant life,” the Keeper began. “The only thing still standing there is a strange ancient building—obviously made eons ago—that emits an unusual aetherial signature. Maybe that’s why it hasn’t been overrun. Explorers _have_ confirmed the presence of the codex fragment within it, but none have been able to get near it safely. We thought it prudent to leave it where it was. After all, it seems to have its own defense system. This key is needed, however, to access that building—or temple, more like. Without it, it’s impossible to get inside. Its able to withstand heavy artillery and the strongest magicks you could throw at it.”

“Sounds straightforward enough,” Prince Victor said, turning the object over in his hand as he inspected it closely. “Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet,” the Keeper said with a frown. He turned to Yuuri before continuing. “I know very little about that temple. Records on it are shoddy at best and I’ve never been there myself—nor do I have any great desire to go. But from what I _do_ know, it’s a strange place. That may be due to the aether around and inside it.”

“I see…,” Yuuri said slowly. He didn’t know what to make of this information.

“I’ll send you what we have on it. Everything that’s nonclassified, of course.”

“Of course.”

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

As they made to leave, all of them already back out in the hallway, the Keeper called out from the doorway. “Prince Yuuri, if I may have a word? Alone?”

Yuuri looked at Victor, who despite being clearly wary, nodded his assent. So Yuuri followed the Keeper back into the dark room, his eyes struggling to re-adjust to the lack of light once again.

“I was wondering,” the Keeper began, as the door feel shut behind them, “what your intentions were. Working with FROST, I mean.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Yuuri understood perfectly, in all honesty. Anyone in the Keeper’s position would be suspicious of him working with Imperials. Those with perfect attunement were often thought of as sages—men and women dedicated to peace and harmony of all living things—who were unaffiliated with any particular government. And while it was true to a degree, it was a terribly restricting classification. Yuuri had not trained much of his youth away to become an ascetic. He’d trained to be useful to his people, and for himself. He had no love for the Empire, but he also had no delusions of being a wandering pacifist.

After all, he, too, was a prince.

“I mean no offense, Your Grace. You are clearly a very gifted and intelligent young man. And I know that Prince Victor has clearly expressed that FROST stands apart from the Empire—but I have to ask: do you trust him?”

Yuuri thought for a long while. In his hand was the silver rhododendron, still glowing softly, and he twirled it a few times before answering. “No, not fully. But I don’t have to trust him in order to work with him.”

“Pardon my assumptions, but yes. I think it would be wise to remain cautious. And before you go, I just wanted to ask one thing of you—the reason I wanted to speak to you—”

“Don’t worry, Keeper. I won’t let the Empire use the fragment for whatever it is they’re planning,” Yuuri assured him. The man visibly relaxed and let out a breath of relief.

“That is reassuring to hear.”

“They took a fragment from my own homeworld, so I understand what you must be feeling. But the reason I’m here at all is to ensure the Emperor doesn’t get his way.”

“Strange that you’re working with his _son_ in that regard.”

“I don’t know what to make of it yet myself, but if worse comes to worst… I can take care of myself.”

“Then I will defer to your judgement on the matter.”

“Thank you.”

“Please allow me to see you back to your allies.” Yuuri wasn’t sure if he could genuinely call Prince Victor and his soldiers his allies, but he said nothing about the matter.

The others were waiting in the hallway when the Keeper led Yuuri back out of the room. All of them looked a little tense, but none more so than Prince Victor. However, they were all polite enough not to say anything even when the Keeper disappeared back into the room. Maybe it had to do with Omena walking towards them from the direction of the entrance.

“I’ve been informed that your meeting with the Keeper is over,” she started. “If you will follow me, I will escort you back to your shuttle.”

It was so strange to think that they’d travelled all the way out here, beyond the confines of imperial space, but couldn’t even see this world properly. They’d been here less than what felt like two standard hours. Yuuri would have liked to see how the people here lived. On the surface, Myren seemed very similar to any other imperial planet, but maybe it was completely different in terms of politics and social conventions.

Though the fact remained that they were on a mission, and they’d accomplished what they’d came here to do. They simply had to carry forward.

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

Back on the ship, after another short briefing session, Yuuri found himself in his cabin, a little put off. Prince Victor had thanked him for his help on Myren, instructed the others to get ready for their excursion to retrieve the codex fragment, and left before Yuuri could get a word in about accompanying them. So he’d been able to do nothing but return to his cabin to sulk.

He huffed, getting up from the foot of the bed where he’d been sitting and paced the width of the room before getting more frustrated. Just who did that Crown Prince think he was? Using Yuuri to get what he needed and then benching him? It was stupid, moreover. How did that man assume that his men would succeed where Myren’s explorers hadn’t? Even if it was a matter of military versus civilian forces, it was evident by the Keeper’s words that Yuuri’s skill would be needed.

Frustration hitting its peak, Yuuri barged out of his cabin and into the hallway he shared with Prince Victor. The door to the room was open, so he made his way over and knocked lightly, gathering his wits.

From what he could see of the room, it was a little more complicated than Yuuri’s own cabin. It consisted of two levels, with the entryway leading to a space with a desk to one side and a sitting space to the other. Behind that was an elevated area where the bed was situated. But from Yuuri’s position, it wasn’t possible to make out much more than that.

Now that he was there, he had half a mind to retreat back to his cabin, but then the Crown Prince stepped into view.

“Your Grace. Did you need something?” the man had the audacity to ask.

“Yes,” Yuuri started flatly, entering the room properly after Prince Victor gestured for him to do so. “I’m coming with you to retrieve the codex fragment.”

Prince Victor just stared at him blankly for a few seconds before quirking an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but that’s not an option.”

“Didn’t you hear the Keeper’s words? There’s a strange aetherial signature around that place. I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll need my help to navigate it,” Yuuri tried to reason. Why were they even having this discussion? It should have been obvious.

“No.” The prince’s expression turned serious. “It’s not up for discussion, Your Grace. It’s too dangerous.”

“Exactly. And that’s why you have to take me along.” Yuuri curled his hands into fists at his side, trying to ground himself. Prince Victor stood directly in front of him, imposing and regal in every way. The man’s very presence—let alone the sheer force of the aether around him; one of the strongest Yuuri had ever encountered—was just shy of _intimidating_. But Yuuri stood his ground, unwilling to be used whenever convenient like some sort of tool.

The codex fragment was not the only thing that mattered here. Just as Prince Victor may have a vested interest in Yuuri’s safety, Yuuri had the same interest in the Crown Prince’s. Should anything happen to the man, Yuuri would be left in a difficult position without any powerful allies.

“I promised your family that I would see you home safely.”

“You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

A look of shock crossed Prince Victor’s face, before being replaced by one that was a cross between exasperation and amusement. Yuuri allowed himself to relax incrementally, only now aware of how tense he’d gone.

“Shrewd,” the man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And stubborn, too.”

“I’m not some helpless diplomat, so please do _not_ treat me as one.”

“I never meant to. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. But you’re not a soldier, and you’re not trained for things like this.”

“Honestly, I don’t think _you’re_ trained for it either, Commander. Unless you’re going to tell me that you regularly go spelunking in aetherially unstable ancient temples in search of eclectic artifacts every other cycle.” Yuuri crossed his arms and stood a little straighter, now more confident of gaining the upper hand.

Prince Victor chuckled—a low, pleasant noise, Yuuri had to admit. “No. Something tells me that if I try to forbid you from joining us, you’ll just end up sneaking off the ship and following us anyway.”

“That’s… an idea.”

“Might as well have you come along properly, then.” He fetched a datapad from the desk and handed it to Yuuri. It was open to a file containing all the information the Keeper had sent them. “You may want to read up before we get there, though it’s not much.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, looking at the datapad. He was a little surprised that he’d been able to convince Prince Victor so easily. He’d expected a lot more resistance.

“Go talk to Mila. She’ll get you fitted for an environment suit. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Prince Victor instructed him. Yuuri nodded and turned to leave when he spoke again. “Your Grace….”

“Yes?” Yuuri looked over his shoulder at Prince Victor. He was leaning against the metal desk in the center of the space.

“When we’re down there, don’t leave my side.” His body language was casual, yet his icy gaze was so intense that it sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine.

Yuuri had to try not to swallow audibly. He nodded with a little more fervor than was probably strictly necessary and rushed out of the room, disappearing into the safety of his own cabin. How was he meant to stay cool, calm, and collected when Prince Victor looked at him like _that_?

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

Yuuri had distracted himself from all thoughts of dangerously handsome prince-commanders by skimming over the details of the files he’d be given. Once he’d calmed down enough thereafter, he went to find Mila, who was in the equipment room. It was larger than he thought it would be, with an array of environment suits neatly lined up along the back, and weapons arranged throughout. In the center was a long table, probably meant for inspecting and doing slight repairs of gear, if the toolkit on top was any indication.

It was probably the least neat part of the ship, though it wasn’t like there was equipment laying around everywhere. There was just a lot of it, along with various crates of what Yuuri could only assume to be _more_ stuff—all probably top-of-the-line.

“Hey there,” Mila said as he walked in. She was already dressed in an environment suit with a blaster holstered to her hip. “I had a feeling you’d be joining us after all.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, don’t just stand there, get over here so we can suit you up,” she said, gesturing broadly at him to join her where all the suits were lined up. “Though as a side note: your current outfit was _perfect_ for earlier, by the way. Very flattering on you.”

“T-Thank you.” Compliments were never easy for him. He had just worn what he thought would be appropriate for any diplomatic meeting, but he briefly recollected the look Prince Victor had given him when he’d first seen Yuuri in it.

Aware that he was blushing, Yuuri quickly put that out of his mind.

“You’re pretty petite, so let’s have you try on one of the smaller suits, yeah?” Mila said, pulling one off from the rack and handing it to him. It was a lot heavier than it looked, and Yuuri almost dropped it before scrambling to get a proper grip on it. “This one’s brand new; latest model. It should be _just_ a little big on you, but that’s how it’s supposed to be when you first wear it. Once you get it on, it’ll automatically shrink down to fit you like a glove.”

“I see,” Yuuri said, carefully examining the garment in his hands. Environment suits—also known as envosuits or exosuits—were as the name suggested: specialized suits that could withstand nearly every type of environment (from violent heat of volcanic worlds to the frigid, near-zero temperatures of deep space) while keeping the person inside comfortable and safe. Mila showed him to a small changing  area with a curtain where he had the privacy to strip out of his jacket and pants, and into the envosuit.

Just as Mila said, as he zipped up the threads of the suit shrunk down to accommodate his frame perfectly, fitting over each muscle as though it had been hand-tailored for him. It was simplistic in design, covering him from neck-to-toe, with built in pieces of plating over vital areas including down his spine. It was a sleek all-black, with a single snowflake on either side of the collar. The collar itself was stiff and high, completely encircling his neck and was higher in the back. From what he knew, near-indestructible aetherglass was inside the collar that would slide out and envelop his head in a protective bubble whenever the suit’s systems deemed it necessary, or whenever it was manually activated. But Yuuri’s knowledge of envosuits in general was dismal. He wasn’t the type to research such things, though if he knew he’d one day find himself squeezed into one, he might’ve read a extranet article or two.

“Oooh, very sexy,” Mila teased as he walked back to her. She winked at him as she pushed over a few pieces of armor, including chestpiece and boots.

“What are these?”

“Standard armor for your everyday scuffle. The chestpiece doubles as a jetpack, and you also have magnetized boots in case you’ll be walking upside down on a metal surface,” she joked as he pulled them on as well. The armor was surprisingly slim, and nothing at all like the old, bulky versions he’d seen in vids as a child. It barely added any mass to the envosuits, and were easy to get on since they fastened themselves into place with several little joints. “All envosuits come built in with a holopanel interface, but yours isn’t configured to your biosignature yet. I’ll have Phichit configure it on the way down.”

“Phichit’s coming with us? I thought he was a communications officer.” Last Yuuri checked, such specialists weren’t the type to venture out on potentially dangerous missions.

“Yeah, but he’s completely trained to be in the field. So is everyone on this ship. We’re FROST, remember?” Ah. That made more sense.

“Right.” Yuuri figured that even the ship’s cook could probably put down an armed insurgence with nothing more than a ladle, if it came down that.

The doors hissed open and in walked Chris, hands in his pockets as he gave Yuuri a once-over while he made his way to the rack. He let out a low whistle, but said nothing else. Still, Yuuri felt the tips of his ears go hot.

“That’s what I thought too,” Mila said with a giggle.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what to do next, but when Chris began pulling off his shirt in the middle of the room, he figured it was a good time to leave. Squeaking out a thank you, he grabbed his clothes and practically sprinted away.

(There was a very small, very traitorous part of his brain that wondered if it had been Prince Victor instead of Chris, he might’ve stayed.)

⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕  ⁕ 

Planet Linerus was too dangerous for the _Corona_ to land on directly.  Not only was there no possible landing site near the temple's coordinates, but there was a real possibility of the local fauna causing damage to the starship. So instead, they were dropped off in front of the temple via shuttle.

The shuttle ride down had been similar to last time. Prince Victor had shown up (dressed in his own perfectly-fitted and custom made envosuit) just before they were set to leave, gawked at Yuuri for a few seconds, mumbled something about him looking good, and then was relatively silent on the way down. Yuuri was just beginning to think that’s how all shuttle rides were going to go.

They now stood together in front of the temple doors—massive obsidian things with beautiful but strange reliefs carved into them—where a small circle slot was cut out in the center.

“So,” Prince Victor started, holding the key the Keeper had given them. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Chris assured him as he lifted the key. Once it was brought close enough, the key ripped itself from Prince Victor’s hand and embedded itself into the slot, the carvings on it lighting up and causing the ones on the doors themselves to shine in turn.

Yuuri was expecting some powerful rumbling to precede the slow and dramatic opening of the doors. But it was a lot more anticlimactic, with the doors neatly and smoothly separating, despite them having been closed for who knows how long. Whoever had built this place had ensured it would last in perpetuity, and that was more than a little disconcerting.

“No turning back now,” Phichit said nervously, from beside Yuuri.

The entrance was pitch black, despite the flashlights from their suits shining powerful beams of light into the darkness. And the closer Yuuri got, the more unsettled he felt. The moment he stepped inside—last, out of all of them—that feeling culminated into a deep, gnawing fear that spread from the pit of stomach to the tips of his fingers. Instinctually, he wrapped the aether around himself as he looked around the undecorated atrium they were standing in, trying not to quake with the overwhelming sensation. Only a single hallway led out from this room, and it made the choice of where to go easy for them.

“The Keeper was right. There’s some weird aetherial signatures in there and it's messing with my sensors,” Phichit said, tapping away at his holopanel. He and the others didn’t seem to feel that sensation of dread Yuuri was drowning in. But how could anyone ignore it?

He knew it wasn’t just in his mind. It was so real, so tangible—like invisible tendrils of aether pulling at his own, trying to drag him down. But it was more than that, too. It was clear that this place and the magic surrounding it was unspeakably old. He could feel it all around him, in just the way the aether flowed through this space and clashed with his. Yuuri’s body was not used to such disharmony and it was almost nauseating.

“Your Grace, are you alright?” Prince Victor asked him gently before they continued forward. His face was wrought with concern, but there was no way for Yuuri to make any of them understand what he was feeling. So he just shook his head, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

“No. There is something _very_ wrong here.”

“What do you mean?” Prince Victor asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“I can’t name it. It’s not possible to describe,” Yuuri said. He shook his head again, trying to clear his mind so he could center himself and fight off whatever this was. He didn’t want Prince Victor or the others to think that he was weak—not after he’d fought to be here. And more than that, he knew if he turned back now, there was no way the Crown Prince and his men would return from this place alive. But to avoid adding to the fear already saturating the atmosphere, he kept that to himself.

“Can you try?” Yuuri looked up at Prince Victor—whose tone was soft once more—and took a deep breath. But he didn’t know if saying it aloud would make things better or worse.

“It’s like echos from the past. Whatever this place was, something truly horrendous happened here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the galaxy map on the Corona is totally based off the one in the Mass Effect series. :x
> 
> Yuuri's outfit was based off his old GPF outfit, sans the turtleneck and frills. (The one from [flashbacks](https://imgur.com/xJmeIpm)!)
> 
> I have a LOT of stuff planned for the future, so I hope you guys will stick with me! Updates may be slow (though hopefully not as slow as this one was, haha) because I'm dealing with school and beyond, but please trust that I won't abandon this fic. Your comments and kudos are what keeps me going even when I feel like giving up sometimes.
> 
> Please visit me on [Tumblr](https://nyerus.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nyerus10) anytime, and feel free to ask questions or chat! (∩*´♡`*∩)
> 
> **Next Up: What ancient secrets does this strange temple hold and what will it mean for the fate of the galaxy? Will they all return unscathed?**


End file.
